


The Consequences of Friendship When You're Dead

by SaikaKuchiki



Category: Vampyr (Video Game)
Genre: All Jonathan needs is a friend, And Clarence already fills those requirements, Gen, One that doesn't have an ulterior motive, tags to be added later, to avoid spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-12
Updated: 2018-11-27
Packaged: 2019-06-09 02:46:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 22
Words: 25,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15257721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaikaKuchiki/pseuds/SaikaKuchiki
Summary: Jonathan gets reacquainted with his oldest friend. And nothing goes wrong. Nope.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So continuing on with the theme that characters become more interesting when you eat their friends, I move on to another of my favourite characters, Clarence Crossley. This was going to be a short thing, but as I wrote it it continued to grow and grow until it turned into this. This is more of a set up chapter, how Jonathan gets into the whole mess with Clarence.

Jonathan was happy for a change. He’d been apprehensive about returning to the West End, too many people who might recognise him, too many people who might not be there anymore. First he’d gone to visit his mother. True, Mary had let her walk away from the graveyard but she had trouble keeping focus and with how dangerous the streets were he needed to check that she was all right. Physically she was fine, but Mary’s death and return had fed into her delusions and according to Avery she was spending more and more time with ‘family’ in her study. But Jonathan took the good news where he could.

Then when he emerged into the night air he was surprised to see someone else knocking on doors and trying to get people’s attention about… vampires? He went over to introduce himself, admitting that it was partly to check if they could actually recognise a vampire, unlike Mr Throgmorton. Then it turned out to be none other than Clarence Crossley, his best friend, who he’d grown up with, who he’d seen married, who he hadn’t seen for years, alive and well and back home from the war. Jonathan could hardly contain his smile as they caught up. Apparently Clarence had dealt with more than simple violence during the war, and was leading his own war on vampires now that he was back. Jonathan took the slightly twitchy nature of Clarence’s demeanour to be a combination of paranoia and shell shock, although everything he said about vampires was certainly true, so was it still paranoia?

Semantics aside, Clarence needed someone on his side right now. Someone who believed him and would help him with anything, and Jonathan had no qualms about doing it. It did, however, make him wonder how Venus was reacting to Clarence’s personal war. So he bid Clarence farewell, promising to bring him the vampire documents he’d asked for, and set off immediately for Clarence’s home.

As he approached the house he used his senses to check inside, he didn’t want to disturb Venus if she was sleeping. But she seemed to have developed the same nocturnal schedule as Clarence. In fact she was in the kitchen cooking despite the lateness of the hour. Although her heart rate was strangely elevated, and it spiked higher as she went to collect something hidden high and away in the corner of the room. Sensing something amiss with the whole situation Jonathan made his way around the house, peering in through the kitchen window to see what Venus was up to. Almost as if she’d been waiting for Jonathan to get into position, Venus began muttering to herself as she added her hidden ingredient. It took a moment for Jonathan to process what was happening, and when he did a dangerous rage began to bubble up inside him.

Venus was poisoning Clarence. He had returned safely from the war, she hadn’t been widowed like so many other, and yet rather than celebrate that fact she wanted him dead for his suffering. Jonathan could feel the rage simmering inside him, but he put on his most gentlemanly facade as he made his way back to the front door and knocked. The door opened a crack and Venus peered out at him nervously before a smile spread across her face.

“Jonathan! Oh I’m so glad to see you made it back from the war too!”

“Good evening Venus. I just ran into Clarence and it made me want to check in with you. May I come in?”

“Well, I’d love to Jonathan, but I was just about to head to bed. Could you come back tomorrow?”

“ _Surely a few minutes couldn’t hurt? To spend time with an old friend?_ ” Normally Jonathan would attempt to convince people to let him in rather than going straight for the mental manipulation, but he wasn’t currently inclined to give Venus any form of leeway.

“Of course, Jonathan. Come in,” Venus smiled as she opened the door for him. “So you know the good news that Clarence returned to me safely?”

“Yes, I ran into him after visiting my mother. We caught up and he told me all about his war against vampires.”

“Oh Jonathan, please don’t say that you indulged his fantasy? I swear that man is turning us into the laughing stock of the West End!”

“You could support him, help him through the paranoia by proving that he has nothing to fear,” Jonathan tried to keep the ice out of his voice but didn’t entirely succeed. Venus looked affronted at the tone more than anything.

“You think I didn’t try that?” she exclaimed. “You think it was easy for me? Waiting all those years, expecting everyday to get a letter that Clarence wasn’t coming home. Then the war was over and I thought we’d been truly blessed, I would finally see my husband again. But my Clarence never returned...” There was genuine distress in Venus’s voice, and Jonathan realised that it must have been an incredibly difficult decision to kill her husband, but it didn’t make him any more likely to forgive her.

“So you thought that poisoning him was the best course of action?” Jonathan’s polite facade had entirely dropped now. His voice was hard as he stared down at Venus. The question made Venus freeze, a deliberately blank expression slid over her features as she examined Jonathan carefully.

“Oh don’t worry Jonathan. The substance I’m using is entirely undetectable. He’ll die, it will look like the flu, or some sort of health complication from the war. And I’ll be a grieving widow, distraught from the loss of my husband, rather than his madness bringing us to ruin.”

“And if I were to tell Clarence?”

“You think he’d believe you over me?” There was a small triumphant smile on Venus’s face, and Jonathan knew she was right.

“No. He loves you more than anything. And you are going to kill him for it.” The rage was boiling inside him, his blood calling for him to strike.

“He’s not the same man I fell in love with Jonathan. He’s not the same,” Venus said quietly. Jonathan didn’t understand why that sentence made him snap, but he felt his fangs descend and knew that he wasn’t going to fight the impulse.

“No, Venus. I’m not the same man,” he snarled, his hand clamping onto her forehead, demanding she remain still and silent. He didn’t even give her the time to turnaround, just bit into her throat then and there. As he began to drink her blood his mesmer dropped and she began to struggle, but she couldn’t scream with his teeth around her windpipe. Her struggles lessened as her memories began to flow through his mind and she fell to the floor as one last thought echoed across her mind.

**I danced with you at my wedding Jonathan. What have you become?**

Jonathan stared down at Venus’s body for a moment before answering.

“You know what I am Venus. I am the very thing your husband is campaigning against. I am a vampire.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jonathan makes a house call.

It was several days later, and Jonathan hadn’t seen Clarence where he normally loitered and was beginning to become worried. He decided a house call was in order, but when he knocked no one seemed to come. He used his senses and saw that Clarence was indeed inside, hovering a few feet behind the door. Jonathan stared worried at that for a moment before knocking again.

“Hello? Anyone there?” he called and this time Clarence approached the door, opening it a crack.

“Leave me alone! Whatever you truly are, leave me! You will not be invited into this house!” Clarence yelled at him through the crack and Jonathan winced.

“Clarence, it’s me, Jonathan, your old friend. Remember?” Jonathan kept his voice low and calm. “I’m back from the war too.”

“No you’re not! You only look like him, but you’re dead inside! You’re a walking devil searching for your next victim!” That hurt to hear and Jonathan became increasingly worried for Clarence’s mental health.

“ _Come on Clarence. It’s me. Johnny. Your old friend. Let me in, please. I just want to see if you’re alright._ ” Jonathan felt slightly guilty about using his influence, but he wanted to check on Clarence and there didn’t seem to be another way to do it. Even then Clarence paused before complying.

“Alright, I’ll let you in, but you promise you won’t hurt me?” That one hurt too.

“Yes Clarence. I’m not here to hurt you.” Clarence slowly opened the door. He backed away as Jonathan stepped through, picking up one of the multiple crosses that were now spread around the room. “Clarence, you need to calm down–” Jonathan began but Clarence cut him off.

“No! You’re the one responsible for all of this! You’re one of them aren’t you? A vampire! You killed my Venus! You’ve destroyed my life!” Clarence brandished the cross at him, it’s blinding light rooting Jonathan to the floor but he tried not to show any more reaction than narrowing his eyes.

“Yes, Clarence, I am a vampire.”

“I knew it! I knew it! Why? Why did you kill her? We’ve known each other for years, we’re friends for God’s sake!” As he was talking Clarence thankfully put the cross back down and Jonathan was able to relax slightly. Jonathan expected the only answer he could give wouldn’t help the situation so he stayed silent. “I wish I’d never seen that vampire officer in France, killing that soldier… My life would have been so much simpler… And you would still be my friend...” Clarence finished and Jonathan couldn’t take it.

“I am sorry to have done this to you Clarence, I truly am.” Jonathan opened the door to leave, but paused to look back at his best friend, who’d known he was changed but had still asked for his help and his trust. “She was killing you Clarence. She held no remorse for it, you’d survived the war, vampires and Skals and I couldn’t let that be the way you died.” The look on Clarence’s face was too much; the rage, the grief, the fear, the hatred. Jonathan jumped away, unable to take one more second of that gaze.

Clarence was now his only link back to the old times that wasn’t tainted by delusion or guilt. For as much as he hated seeing Clarence in pain, he couldn’t bring himself to feel guilty for Venus’s death. He’d resisted feeding for so long, barely surviving off dregs during his skirmishes with Priwen but it wasn’t the same as truly feeding. Venus’s memories were still fresh in his mind, the degradation of her feelings towards Clarence were painful, especially when Clarence so clearly loved her so deeply through all his trauma and paranoia.

Jonathan shook himself mentally, he had other things to focus on apart from how he destroyed the lives of everyone around him. He had an epidemic to stop and a city to save.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So as it turns out, murdering someone's wife isn't a good thing. Come on Jonathan, you knew this.  
> Also quite a lot of this chapter has dialogue straight from the game because I just love the way it's delivered. Honestly the voice acting in this whole game is great, but I just love this bit ^^  
> Sorry about the short length of this bit, but chapter length seems to vary wildly as I write this.  
> Also the whole idea behind this spawned from the fact that Clarence is the only person that you can actually confess to being a vampire to, so of course I had to get that bit in here


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A sidequest appears

He managed to stay away from the West End for a few days, pursuing leads and healing the sick in the other nearby boroughs but things were pointing back to the West End. He avoided the Priwen patrols on his way into the district, making his way to the main street. The usual people were milling about, Louise Teasdale wandering around in her melancholy and Kimura Tadao staring up at the stars with his new found freedom. Clarence wasn’t there, but Jonathan suspected he was still holed up in his house. Jonathan tried to put it from his mind, smiling when Charlotte caught his eye and beckoned him over.

“Dr Reid, I could do with your help. My best friend has disappeared and I fear a vampire may be involved.”

“What have you gotten mixed up with Miss Ashbury?”

“Emily recently showed interest in vampires, and I shared her enthusiasm. So I told her most of what I know, and I haven’t seen her since.”

“And you fear she may have gotten in over her head in vampire affairs?”

“I sincerely hope not, but I fear the worst.”

“I shall see what I can find.”

“Thank you, Dr Reid. She lived just down the road from here. Good luck.”

“I shall return with news.”

The house that Charlotte had indicated was locked, and no one answered the door when he knocked. He made his way around the building to come to a courtyard. There was a slight blood splatter on the pavement, but it could be anyone’s, he needed the proof that it was a trail worth following. The splatter was a drip pattern from a suspended wooden balcony above him, but it was too high for him to jump to. Across the courtyard was the balcony of Clarence and Venus’s bedroom, and that ownership meant that he couldn’t jump to the balcony.

Jonathan made his way to the front door, knocking sharply and waiting for a response. The door opened a crack and even before Clarence appeared Jonathan smiled and said “Hello, old friend.”

“Johnny?” The fear was palpable in his voice and it took all of Jonathan’s self control to not show the pain that brought him. “What do you want from me now?”

“I only need to use your balcony, but if you would talk to me I would appreciate it.”

“Why do you need to use our balcony?”

“May I come in?” Jonathan hadn’t pushed, but he could if need be. Clarence narrowed his eyes, staring hard at Jonathan for so long that he was about to ask again.

“Yes,” Clarence said warily. He backed away from the door and left a large distance between himself and Jonathan as he entered. “I’d never have thought that one day I’d be so afraid of you,” Clarence muttered. Jonathan didn’t know what to say to that and ended up just staring at Clarence while he shuffled uncomfortably, fiddling with his fingers and his gaze roving around Jonathan’s face.

“Sorry about the inconvenience at this late hour Clarence. I’ll be on my way,” Jonathan said with a quick nod of the head before making his way up through the house. Clarence followed behind him and only paused when they reached the bedroom.

“How do you know?” Clarence asked quietly, staring at the bed he used to share with his wife, her diary still on the bedside table.

“How do I know what?” Jonathan stopped with his hand on the balcony door.

“How do you know that my Venus had no remorse for trying to kill me?” Jonathan turned to face Clarence in earnest.

“When a vampire feeds, we get to see our victim’s mind. All their memories, all their emotions, everything that makes a person who they are. And what you and Venus had was truly beautiful. But after the war, after everything you’d suffered through she didn’t see you as the same person any more. Just someone broken, bringing shame and ruin on both yourself and her.” There was a tense silence when Clarence glared at him.

“Liar! Venus loved me!”

“Yes, Clarence, she did. But your paranoia and your apparent delusions made her desperate. It made her believe it would be easier to be a grieving widow than the wife of an insane man.”

“Get out, Johnny,” Clarence growled.

“Clarence wait–” Jonathan began but he could already feel his strength draining from the withdrawn invitation.

“No, Johnny! I want you out of my house!” Clarence shouted.

Jonathan had no choice other than to fling the balcony door open and make a blind jump for the opposite balcony. He stumbled on landing but turned in time to see Clarence glaring at him from the door, tears brimming in the corner of his eyes. Jonathan was just about to call out when Clarence slammed the door. Jonathan watched for a moment as Clarence backed away from the door then flopped down onto the bed. He hoped Clarence would get some much needed rest but he somehow suspected he wouldn’t.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jonathan faces fire, the sun and his feelings. He doesn't know which is worse.

The next time Jonathan was in the West End he’d had to face down the Ichor formerly known as Doris Fletcher. It had been a hard won fight, and although he couldn’t become ill her vomit had been very toxic and his coat had many acid holes burned through it. He was on his way back to the Ascalon Club when a patrol of Priwen – presumably on their way to the theatre – ambushed him with a flamethrower. Now fire hurt like hell on a good night, but when it ignited his chemically soaked clothes and then continued to burn until he’d finished fighting the Priwen and physically stomped the fire out was a whole new level of agony.

Suddenly Jonathan became very aware of how much brighter the night was around him. He looked up and saw the first hints of sunlight on the top of the buildings. He started to panic, he was too far away from the Ascalon Club and his own house to get inside in time. The only place close enough he could get to was Clarence’s house. He couldn’t sprint very far, he could barely run properly and when he reached Clarence’s front door the sun was spreading across the pavement and the nearby fountain.

He knocked harshly, banging on the door and willing Clarence to come swiftly. Inside the house he could see Clarence upstairs, lying down on the bed. Jonathan was tempted to leave him to sleep but when he turned around he saw the sun had trapped him on the steps. He slammed on the door, barely enough to prevent damaging the wood. Clarence started awake upstairs and Jonathan knocked once again to draw his attention downstairs. Slowly, painfully slowly, Clarence got out of bed and as he made his way downstairs Jonathan felt the sun creeping up his legs. He was getting unbearably hot and it was taking all his strength simply to remain standing. It felt like he was roasting alive when Clarence finally opened the door.

“Clarence, I’m trapped in the sun, please let me in,” Jonathan said quickly.

“Johnny… what?” Clarence said, staring at Jonathan uncomprehendingly.

“ _Clarence, let me in_ ,” Jonathan pushed this time, influencing Clarence to open the door immediately. Clarence stepped back, pulling the door open and Jonathan leapt across the threshold, slamming the door behind him before sinking into an armchair.

“Johnny, what is wrong with you?” Clarence was staring at the scorch marks on his coat and at the blackened burnt skin underneath.

“I’ve had a very long night,” Jonathan smiled to himself. As he sat there Jonathan could feel his skin slowly healing, but he hadn’t embraced anyone since Venus and his healing had slowed considerably. Clarence had sank into the armchair furthest from Jonathan, but couldn’t stop staring at Jonathan’s healing.

“You forced me to let you in.” It wasn’t a question it was a statement. “What’s the point of needing an invitation if you can force people to give you one?” Clarence muttered as he rubbed his head as if trying to get Jonathan’s influence out. Jonathan could do nothing but laugh, which apparently startled Clarence.

“So much of being a vampire doesn’t make sense Clarence. I’m doing my best to understand it, but it’s resisting the scientific method.” Jonathan sighed, putting his hand over his face. He needed to sleep but this was the first time Clarence had been civil and he didn’t want to waste it. “How can you tell when I influence you? No one else seems to be able to...”

“I…” Clarence began but trailed off almost immediately. Jonathan moved his hand to see Clarence running his own hand through his hair as he tried to think it through. “Ever since I saw that vampire officer I began to question everything. I go over everything I see and think and say, it loops in my mind until I’m certain it makes sense. Some things never do and those are the ones that worry me the most, but anything you put in my mind feels wrong. It doesn’t feel like myself.” Jonathan’s exhaustion caught up with him at the moment and he sagged back against the armchair.

“I must apologise Clarence but I’m going to have to sleep here.”

“Can’t you go somewhere else?”

“I’m sorry Clarence.” As he was drifting into sleep Jonathan found the confidence to continue speaking. “It has been nice to talk Clarence. It almost feels like old times.” Any reply Clarence gave was lost on Jonathan, but he’d felt the need to say it.

 

**

 

Jonathan started awake with a burning on the top of his head. He looked around wildly, confused that he wasn’t in any of his hideouts before he recalled how he’d ended up in Clarence’s house. Next to the armchair was the room divider from upstairs that was protecting him from most of the sun streaming in through the windows. How had he not remembered the windows? It was only a tiny ray of sun that fell on him over the top of the divider. It certainly hadn’t been there when he’d fallen asleep, so Clarence must have moved it there. For the first time in a long time Jonathan held some hope that he could repair some of the damage he’d caused Clarence. He moved the divider closer so that he was protected once again and swiftly fell back to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So originally I was going to have every time skip be a new chapter, including that single paragraph at the end, but as I couldn't think of anything else to write there I decided to include it in here.  
> I was intending to update this yesterday, but work sucks so here it is now.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning ((it's evening Jonathan)) after

When Jonathan next awoke it was the evening and the only thing that had changed about the room was that Clarence was back in the opposite chair staring at him.

“Good evening, Clarence.” Jonathan sat up straight, meeting Clarence’s stare before he continued. “Thank you for the room divider. I can’t believe I forgot about the windows...”

“Was it you I saw in France?” Clarence asked quietly. Jonathan let out a long slow breath but didn’t answer right away. He’d thought that things were improving between himself and Clarence, but apparently not. “Answer me Goddamnit. How long ago did my best friend die?”

“You’ve known about vampires longer than I have Clarence. I was attacked on my way home, barely two weeks ago.”

“And you feed on blood every night?” Jonathan nodded, rats still counted as blood. “So you stalk around London, hunting down innocent victims? Draining people of their blood? Leaving the corpses to lie on the street? In a mass grave if they’re lucky?”

“Clarence...” Jonathan began but Clarence stood up.

“Why have you not killed me yet? Why do you continue to torment me after murdering my wife? My Venus! Do you take sustenance from my pain as well? Feed on my terror? Am I nothing but a pawn in some sick game?” Clarence yelled. There was a pause during which Jonathan just stared up at Clarence without speaking, without moving, not even breathing. He stood up, smoothly and slowly in one fluid motion which entirely unnerved Clarence.

“Clarence, I am starving. I have fed twice. Once when I first turned, and once when I was visiting my best friend’s wife only to find her poisoning him. I lost control.” Clarence looked like he was about to interrupt and Jonathan’s face grew dark. “ _Listen to me now Clarence, and know that I speak the truth._ I never asked for this. I was turned against my will, with no knowledge of what was happening. Every night I am attacked by vampire hunters and skals, and I am being manipulated on all sides by vampires and humans alike who only care about their own agenda. I have had an unbearable thirst for blood thrust upon me that I keep under control by eating rats as often as I find them. You are the only person who knew me as a human and recognised me as something different. You are my best friend, what I have become doesn’t change that.” Jonathan strode to the front door, wrenching it open and storming out into the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter along with the next few are coming out a little short, so I'm gonna try to update a bit more frequently. No promises but I'll do what I can.  
> Also time is... vague in this game and I find that frustrating. My first game I only slept like 3 times, and everyone was acting like so much time had passed and they'd had time to judge and progress stories and yet it hadn't even been a week.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A close call.

Jonathan had had the most wearing evening. The Ascalon Club was exclusively filled with the most frustratingly old fashioned vampires Jonathan could conceive of. They were so lost in their own self importance that they were willing to let the entire human population burn. He strode out into the street, the wind blowing through his burned coat, reminding him that he needed to get it fixed. Suddenly the scent of fresh blood caught his nostrils and Jonathan froze. The colours of the world faded until all he could see was the red pulsing of blood in the warm bodies around him. He tried to distract his mind, tried to list the ingredients he would need to create basic antiseptics, simple headache medication anything he could conceive but the thirst would not lessen.

“Dr Reid, you’ve been standing in the middle of the road for a couple of minutes now. Are you all right?” His head turned to face the sound, he recognised it as speech but not the words that were spoken. He tried to resist the thirst, to send the red away from him but it was taking all his self control to stop himself going straight for the throat. Then the red made the terrible mistake of coming closer. “When was the last time you fed?” The words washed through his mind and only the last one stuck. Yes, he needed to feed. His hand was on his victim’s head as he leant close to whisper their obedience.

Slowly he started to walk with his victim, knowing on instinct the shortest path to a secluded location. He reached a corner when a new sound reached him. It was words again, but a different voice. His head turned and he saw another pulsating red, but this one was ill. It had a migraine – the ingredients flitted through his mind – but more than that, some deeper mental problem, a combination of shell shock and paranoia.

Jonathan’s awareness snapped back to the moment and his hand and mesmer dropped. He was staring at Clarence as Miss Ashbury shook her head in an attempt to clear it. Oh god he’d nearly fed on Charlotte Ashbury, on Elisabeth’s daughter. He took a step backwards away from both of them.

Charlotte came back to her senses and turned to face him in rage. She slapped him hard across the face.

“You dare to try and embrace me? If you think my mother would ever let you get away with that then you aren’t nearly as smart as you think you are.” Jonathan bristled at that sentence, partly because he’d just been thinking it himself and partly because Charlotte still hadn’t seemed to grasp that she’d have been dead.

“And if you think that sort of reasoning would even give a vampire pause then you don’t know nearly as much about vampires as you think you do.” Jonathan snarled in response. The thirst was still intense in the back of his throat and his vision was slowly greying out once again but Jonathan just managed to keep his wits about him. “If you’ll excuse me,” Jonathan tried to extract himself from the temptation of their blood but Charlotte stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“Dr Reid, you have to feed. If you don’t wish to feed off the dying like my mother at least feed off those Priwen bastards.”

“I very rarely get the opportunity when they’re trying to kill me for existing,” Jonathan muttered the dryness of his throat making his voice sound rough. He pulled his arm from her grip and moved away. “Now I really must get going.”

Charlotte started to say something again but Jonathan jumped away, swiftly turning the corner and retreating around the back of the Ascalon Club, heading for the entrance to the sewers and the veritable buffet of rats that lived there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always did find it frustrating that you couldn't actually use the dodge move in 'safe' areas when you can still use the situational jump when you need to. Is Jonathan hiding his abilities around people or not game? Make up your mind!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Later that evening...

Later that evening, after having a small argument over the rights to rats with Carina, Jonathan returned to the main street, debating whether he had enough time to make it back to the Pembroke or whether he should stay with his mother. He sighed. It was always tiring and saddening to stay at home, Avery did what he could but his mother seemed to be slowly losing touch with reality. He was about to head for the front door anyway when someone called out to him. He turned to see Clarence staring at him, hovering around the tables covered with his vampire warning leaflets. Clarence stared at his mouth, probably looking for traces of blood but Jonathan had always been diligent about cleaning himself off.

“Good evening Clarence. It’s good to see you out and about again,” Jonathan smiled, but didn’t miss Clarence’s gaze go over his teeth, looking closely for fangs.

“That woman said eating rats isn’t good for you,” Clarence muttered.

“It wouldn’t be good for anybody, but I prefer it to the alternative,” Jonathan said wryly. He stared at Clarence, taking note of how the migraine was slowly worsening. “Would you like something medication for that headache?” Clarence looked taken aback but shook his head.

“I’m fine Johnny, I don’t need you to examine me...” Jonathan raised an eyebrow but didn’t press the matter.

“Then what can I help you with Clarence?”

“I just… I just wanted to talk. Being able to make anyone believe anything you say at any point makes trusting you very difficult, but I thought over everything you said.” Clarence picked up one of his vampire leaflets and began to fold it feverishly between his fingers. “I saw you tonight, you know. Saw what you did to that girl. Is that what you did to my Venus?”

“Yes, Clarence.”

“Did she suffer?”

“I do what I can but I still needed to drain her of her blood.” The colour drained from Clarence’s face and Jonathan could see he was losing what little trust Clarence had given him. “I do wish you’d stop asking questions that only serve to hurt you.”

“I need to know Johnny. I need to know if you’re a monster or if you’re still my best friend.”

It was with a sad smile that Jonathan spoke. “I’m both, Clarence. I’m both.” Clarence stared hard at Jonathan, taking in the pallour of his skin, the paleness of his eyes.

“I’ll see you later Johnny,” Clarence said, placing the leaflet back on the table and heading back towards his house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Upon re-reading this I really should have just combined it with the previous chapter, it makes sense, it's the same evening, continuous story elements... Oh well.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The worst night so far

Jonathan was exhausted. No, more than exhausted, he felt drained. The night seemed to have been moving at a hundred miles an hour and yet it never seemed to end.

He couldn’t bear to return to the hospital so without thinking on it his feet had led him in the opposite direction. It was in that state that he found himself back in the West End. He stood staring down the road, not wanting to have to even pass by the Ascalon Club, even to return home.

“What brings you back here Johnny?” a familiar voice broke him out of his reverie and he turned to see Clarence making his way towards him.

“I needed a break from the hospital,” was all he could think to say.

“Were you heading back home?”

“I don’t know...” Clarence looked confused by that statement, but upon coming closer he noticed Jonathan’s eyes and how they’d changed.

“Did you want to rest at my house again?” Jonathan blinked. He honestly hadn’t been expecting the offer, and he desperately needed someone to talk to.

“Only if it is no inconvenience,” Jonathan smiled. Clarence’s gaze flicked to his teeth, as they did every time he opened his mouth wide enough but Jonathan was used to it by now.

“An honest invitation this time,” Clarence said, turning away from Jonathan and leading him back towards his house.

“Thank you, my friend,” Jonathan said quietly as he fell into step with Clarence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the shortest chapter so far - and so far as I can tell in the fic. Originally I was going to explain everything Jonathan does from Aloysius to Edgar, but then I realised that that was going to explained in the next chapter with Clarence, you know, when it matters, so there was no point in saying it twice. So this is really just an introductory chapter to the next one where everything happens.  
> Enjoy the soup before the meat and potatoes of this fic.  
> I should go eat something, I'm thinking about food too much.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The long conversation

Clarence had made himself a pot of tea which was sitting on the table between them. Jonathan watched for a moment, he personally thought Clarence needed food rather than tea but it wasn’t really the time of night for eating. Jonathan had taken the liberty of removing his coat, he was hoping to stay at least until tomorrow night, and maybe the less formal-wear would make it easier to talk with Clarence like old times.

“How is Emelyne these days?” Clarence asked when Jonathan seemed reluctant to start the conversation, placing his cup on the table.

“Avery takes good care of her,” Jonathan said sadly. “She says she wishes I could be home more, but I fear my presence would attract too many dangers.”

“Venus and I tried to come to Mary’s funeral, but because we weren’t family we couldn’t get through the quarantine. She wasn’t there alone was she?” A wave of guilt passed through him as he remembered his mother’s distress.

“It was just her, Avery and the priest. I… I couldn’t reveal myself as a vampire, so I could only watch from afar.” Clarence was frowning slightly as he stared at Jonathan. Jonathan debated telling Clarence that he’d been the one to kill Mary, but even as he thought it he knew the guilt was still too personal. He knew Clarence had seen what it was like when he lost himself to the thirst, but he couldn’t face it if Clarence blamed him the way he blamed himself.

“So what is it tonight that’s got you not wanting to go home?” Clarence asked, and Jonathan was touched by the genuine care that was in his friend’s voice. It brought a small smile to his face that slipped off as the evening’s events flashed through his mind.

“A lot happened this evening Clarence and it has impressed on me how far from human I have become.” Clarence tensed and Jonathan knew there was a part of Clarence that would always fear him. But if Clarence was able to put that aside Jonathan would love to still call him a friend. “Are you willing to listen to my exploits this evening?” Clarence paused before speaking, closely examining Jonathan’s eyes.

“Yes, Johnny.”

“What do you know of Aloysius Dawson?”

“One of – if not the – richest man in England. I heard he was very knowledgable on the occult and that he’s been very ill,” Clarence said, frowning as if he’d guessed where this was going.

“And prime recruit for the Empire’s vampire elite,” Jonathan sneered, he had not liked that man. “I was tasked with turning Aloysius into an immortal so that he might finance their endeavours for years to come.”

“The _Empire’s_ vampire elite? What… How… How far have vampires infiltrated society?” Clarence exclaimed, his eyes wide. Jonathan vaguely had the thought that his answer wasn’t going to help Clarence’s paranoia but he couldn’t stop now. The best he could do was keep the details to a minimum to try and protect Clarence.

“They are very rich and have been controlling as much of the Empire that the very rich can affect for a very long time,” Jonathan grimaced, before continuing. “With an attitude to match. Never have I met a group of people more determined to uphold tradition over everything else. Including common sense!” For some reason Jonathan’s little outburst made Clarence smile.

“Not everyone is quite as liberal with their thinking as you, Jonathan.” After a moment the smile faded and Clarence continued. “But you’ve dealt with irritating old men before, so what about tonight was different?”

“The difference was what I’d been sent there to do!” Jonathan exclaimed. “If I had made that soulless blaggard an immortal anything he did after that point would be my fault as much as it was his. I was starving and in the presence of a dying man that I had learned to hate in a matter of minutes, so I expedited his passing.” The colour had drained from Clarence’s face as he had been talking, in fact he was almost as pale as Jonathan now. “And that is only the beginning...”

“The murder of the most highly regarded merchant in England is just the beginning?” Clarence gasped.

“I was immediately expelled from the vampire elite, and no sooner had I stepped out into the night air was I told that vampire hunters had attacked the hospital. They kidnapped Dr Swansea – the administrator of the hospital – and laid a trap for me. Tell me, do you know about the Guard of Priwen?”

“Professional vampire hunters. Yes, I know of them.”

“Yes, headed by a fanatic by the name of Geoffrey McCullum. He attempted to torture me with UV curtains and orichalcum powder, but when that failed he resorted to just trying to kill me.”

“Wait, UV… curtains?”

“Artificial sunlight, at least when used in combination. And flooding the room with it so that I can hardly move without burning made the fight exceedingly difficult.”

“Did you kill him too?” Clarence asked, apparently thinking that was the worst Jonathan could do.

“Well… no. I wore him down enough that he no longer posed a threat, and then he cursed at me, called me monster, told me that I am the worst evil upon mankind and that he’d never stop hunting me.” Jonathan paused. He knew what he’d done next might be the worst thing he’d done that evening in Clarence’s eyes and was reluctant to admit it. Clarence stared at him, not pushing Jonathan to continue but concern in his eyes at Jonathan’s reluctance. “So I turned him into a vampire,” Jonathan said in a rush.

“You did what?!” Clarence yelled. He’d snapped up straight from where he’d been slouching in his chair, eyes wide and staring at Jonathan. “Johnny, everything you’ve said about being a vampire makes it sound like the worst curse someone can suffer through! Why would you inflict that on anyone? Especially on someone who hates you? Who will probably hunt you down til either one of you is dead?” Clarence frowned slightly at his last words. “Well, more dead...” he muttered.

“You think I don’t know that?” Jonathan sighed. “Ever since I left him there I’ve been listing all the reasons that I shouldn’t have done it...”

“Then why? Why would you do that?”

“Because it’s the worst thing I could inflict on a man like him!” Jonathan burst out. “Him and his bloody war dogs have been hunting me, trying to kill me from the minute that I first woke up as a vampire. And despite the vast evidence to my attempts to cure this epidemic he insisted that I was not only the cause of it but also a deceitful monster with no better intent than to drain everyone I meet!”

“Johnny,” Clarence sighed. “Don’t you understand that you just proved his point?”

“Maybe I did, but he deserved it,” Jonathan spat. After a moment Jonathan managed to compose himself again. “After I had dealt with McCullum I went after Dr Swansea in order to rescue him. He was the one who offered me sanctuary at the hospital, as well as a job. Treating the patients there really did help me feel more… like a doctor.” Clarence had settled back down into his chair slightly once Jonathan had calmed down, but he still looked disturbed at Jonathan’s exploits. “When I arrived at the temporary Priwen headquarters, I found Edgar beaten, bloody and tortured, barely hanging on to life by a thread. From a fanatical militia that, apparently, didn’t kill humans.” Clarence was remaining silent now, waiting for Jonathan to finish explaining everything before giving his opinions. “But during my attempts to cure the epidemic there were too many things pointing back to Pembroke. So I questioned Edgar myself, and it turned out that he had caused the Skal epidemic by experimenting on patients with vampire blood.” Jonathan sank further into his chair, Edgar’s betrayal still hurt. “He went against his oath, he betrayed all the patients he experimented on – none of them with consent or even knowledge – and all of London’s vampire troubles can be traced back to him. So I gave him what he deserved, death at the fangs of a vampire.”

“That’s the second time tonight you’ve said that,” Clarence said quietly, which wasn’t what Jonathan expected so it caught him off-guard.

“Said what?”

“That they deserved what you did to them. You killed three people today, one of which was a doctor – just like you – and you somehow think you’re better than all of them. You think that it was your right to decide what happened to them! It’s just… arrogance!” This statement took Jonathan by surprise. He’d been expecting Clarence to just be horrified at the fact that he’d killed people, not to assess his character. There was a pause as he just stared at Clarence with confusion plastered across his face, and Clarence was staring back at him uncertainly. “And… it’s the best… evidence I’ve seen since… since Venus… that you’re still… you.” Clarence continued falteringly. Jonathan was frozen as he began to process this bizarre, fantastic turn of events, so Clarence continued speaking once again. “I mean, even when we were kids it was always your ideas that were the best or you that was the smartest. And, I mean, to discover new ways of treatment – it was blood transfusion wasn’t it? - requires some sort of arrogance as well as intelligence...” All the tension left Jonathan as Clarence spoke. He slumped back in his chair, smiling until Clarence talked himself into silence.

“Thank you Clarence. Yes, you’re right. Arrogance...” Jonathan chuckled to himself, his mood genuinely lifted before doubt began to creep in. “You really think I’m the same man?”

Clarence looked slightly uncomfortable but answered the question anyway. “Yes Johnny. I… I think your world has changed, a lot more death than maybe even the war, and a lot of responsibility for that death now falls on you. But I think you haven’t really changed...”

“Yes, the world has changed drastically. Thank you Clarence.” At this point Clarence stifled a yawn behind his cup of tea so Jonathan checked his watch. “It is very early in the morning Clarence. You should be asleep,” he chastised gently.

“Maybe you’re right...” Clarence mumbled. “Are you going to be sleeping here too?” he asked as he stood up.

“Yes if I could,” Jonathan smiled, standing as well. “I’ll grab the room divider now so that I don’t disturb you later.”

“Sure...” Clarence said through another yawn. Jonathan followed Clarence upstairs, taking the room divider before pausing in the door as he made to leave.

“Goodnight Clarence,” he said.

“Goodnight Johnny,” Clarence replied sleepily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I said this was the meat and potatoes of this fic. I wasn't kidding.  
> Also it's not arrogance Clarence, it's called being a protagonist.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarence's morning

Clarence was woken by the sun shining on him a few hours later. He could never sleep for very long since the war, so he resigned himself to getting up. He managed to remember that Jonathan was staying this time, so he wasn’t immediately sent into a spiral of panic at his presence. The stillness of the sleeping vampire was still creepy, he wasn’t breathing at all, his head resting low on his chest. Clarence stared at him for a while but had to stop when the word corpse started floating around his mind. It was then that Clarence noticed that the teapot he’d left on the table the previous night was no longer there. In fact everything that wasn’t a cross looked like it had been tidied and cleaned. He walked through to the kitchen and saw all of the recent cutlery and crockery he’d used was neatly piled up on the draining board. He’d been leaving everything to pile up. He could barely see the point of eating, and now that Venus wasn’t here to insist upon it he didn’t often bother.

It was odd for Clarence to realise that Jonathan cared about him. He’d been the subject of pity, hatred and complete disregard since his return from the war, he’d almost forgotten what it was like. Venus had mostly seemed exasperated with him whenever she wasn’t poisoning him. He placed the dishes away before retreating back to stare at Jonathan again.

He still hadn’t moved an inch.

Clarence wanted to do something for Jonathan in the same way that Jonathan had tidied his house. But it wasn’t like he could help out at Reid manor of the hospital. It was then that Clarence noticed Jonathan’s coat hanging by the door, it was still riddled with burn holes and one of the leather shoulders was beginning to come loose. Clarence went to lift it off the coat rack but it felt heavier than it should have been. Warily Clarence left it on the rack, opening it to find a variety of weapons in various holsters attached to the lining of the coat.

Clarence took a step back as a wave of panic overtook him. His ‘friend’ had come into his house, heavily armed, no doubt with the intention to kill him and Clarence had let him in willingly. Clarence turned back to look at Jonathan, stopping that train of thought and trying to think clearly. Jonathan had mentioned that he had been fighting last night. Jonathan was also a vampire, and if he’d wanted to kill Clarence he didn’t need weapons to do it. Despite the cold shiver he got every time he thought about vampires, the fact that it was Jonathan – his old friend – did help to calm Clarence.

He decided that he would still take the coat to be repaired – there was a shop in Temple that would be able to do it swiftly – but he would have to remove the weapons first. The largest one was one was a sword; a full on, knights-of-old, sword. There was a tiny leather sheath that the tip of the sword was held in, and the handle was held in place with a clasp that was surprisingly easy to undo. He laid the sword on the chest of drawers next to him, wondering where the hell Jonathan had got it from. Next to the sword was a surgical saw hanging by the handle in a similar clasp to the sword. He withdrew the saw before opening the other side of the coat. This side had two rows of smaller weapons including a stake, a large knife, a pistol, a shotgun and a machete. Gingerly Clarence removed them all, the chest of drawers now resembling some sort of armoury. The coat, however, was now ready to be repaired.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I spent far too long thinking about this damn coat and how many weapons, documents and drugs Jonathan has stuffed in it at any one point so now Clarence and you guys have to suffer it too. Also I could not get a handle on the two handed weapons, so Jonathan just didn't pick them up here. I found the most efficient way to kill things was to combo the knife with the claw attack that has a really short reuse time, when you're on the final claw you can literally alternate, never run out of blood and stun lock most enemies.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back to Jonathan

When Jonathan awoke that evening the first thing he noticed was the newspaper on the table in front of him. The headline read: **Aloysius Dawson Murdered!** and Jonathan sighed. He didn’t know what he’d expected really and he supposed it had been murder, simply calling it an ‘embrace’ didn’t change that.

“The hospital attack is in there too,” Clarence’s voice suddenly came from behind him. “Dr Swansea is still only counted as missing though...” Jonathan flicked through the paper, giving the article a quick skim. At the mention of the epidemic beginning to overwhelm the now crippled hospital the gravity of London’s situation came crashing down upon him. He leapt to his feet, throwing the paper back onto the table.

“Thank you for last night, Clarence,” he said swiftly, beginning to straighten out his clothes so that they didn’t look slept in. “It’s nice to have someone to talk to about everything, but I have matters that I must attend to.” He darted to the door, ready to sweep his coat on and disappear into the night, but then he noticed that all his weaponry was sat out on the chest of drawers next to it and a box sat beneath it containing the other items he’d stored in his coat.

“I don’t know how you can walk in that coat, let alone fight in it considering how much you carry around in it,” Clarence was shaking his head at him from where he was sat at the dining table. Jonathan was pleased to see that he was eating, but then he was distracted by the state of his coat. It had been expertly repaired, looking as good as when he had first received it from Swansea. Entire panels of the tweed material had been replaced, and all of the burn holes had been so neatly repaired that he almost didn’t notice where some of them had been. All of the holsters on the inside were still present, as well as the deepened pockets for medicine and documents.

“I took your coat to be repaired, it desperately needed it,” Clarence said. “I removed the weapons before I took it to the shop, they found everything else while mending it.” Jonathan looked at Clarence, dumbfounded for a moment before a grin spread across his face. He began putting everything back in its proper place, the urgency of the epidemic still urging him to move swiftly but his mood certainly lifted. He was placing all the medicine away when he realised he was holding the migraine medication he’d specifically made for Clarence, and that among the papers beneath it were all the vampire documents Clarence had asked for all those nights ago. With both items in hand he jumped over to Clarence in his haste, scaring him so much that he leapt out over the back of the chair, knocking it over before he could catch it.

“Sorry Clarence, I didn’t think that through...” he said sheepishly before placing the items on the table. “This is for the migraine I know you have, and these are those documents on vampires you asked for, if you still wish to have them.” Jonathan made sure to walk – albeit briskly – back to the door. “Now you must excuse me, I have to see about stopping this epidemic.” He was already halfway out the door before Clarence replied.

“Thank you Johnny. Good luck with the epidemic...”

“Have a good night Clarence, get some sleep,” Jonathan called as he shut the door behind him.

First order of business was to make the antidote: blood of a pure heart, blood of a king and garlic. Surely there could be no purer blood than that of William Marshal’s, so it seemed that he was returning to the Ascalon Club after all. He was turned away at the front door, apparently unwelcome there, and yet they neglected to lock the back door. The doorman attacked him once he discovered his alternate route, but Jonathan defeated him with relative ease. He then found Lord Redgrave in his office, who immediately started blustering at his presence.

“Traitor! I should have you ended for simply daring to set foot back in this place!”

“You’re welcome to try if you believe you can do a better job than your doorman,” Jonathan said icily, a polite smile daring Redgrave to try, “or Fergal for that matter.” Redgrave bristled but made no move against him. “I am here because I have a means to end the epidemic, but I need the blood of William Marshal to do it.”

“The blood of William Marshal? Of my maker?” Jonathan felt a pang of irritation at the repeated lie. “This is sacred blood, bequeathed to me on the battlefield and you have no claim to it.”

“Oh cease this farce! William Marshal was not your maker and you have no more claim over this blood than anyone else,” Jonathan sneered. Redgrave pulled himself up very straight, glaring daggers at Jonathan.

“You dare insinuate that I am not–” Redgrave began before Jonathan cut him off.

“You forget, Lord Redgrave, that I have met Old Bridget, a particularly fascinating Skal.” When Redgrave understood what Jonathan was implying he froze, and Jonathan didn’t miss the flash of disgust and shame that passed across his features before he schooled them into a carefully crafted neutral expression. “And I hardly think that the progeny of William Marshal would only be able to make skals–”

“Hold your tongue this instant!” Redgrave demanded in his most commanding tone. Jonathan raised an eyebrow, glad that he’d managed to rattle Lord Redgrave, but obligingly stopped talking. “You have convinced me of the direness of your need, and I shall grant your request as it seems to be the only hope London may have.” Jonathan almost snorted at the attempt to save face, instead he settled for an amused smile. “Take it and begone then, you will not be welcomed back within these walls, even if you should succeed.”

“How will I ever endure such a hardship...” Jonathan muttered, rolling his eyes as he left Lord Redgrave for the final time. He noticed Lords Finney and Sheffield loitering on the balcony above staring down at him, but they didn’t move to attack or even slow him down, so he paid them no mind.

One ingredient down, two to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wait, is that a plot?  
> Also more than a single conversation in a chapter, whatever will happen next, an actual release schedule?


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Consequences

It was two nights later before McCullum turned up in the Whitechapel Cemetery. Long enough for Jonathan to deduce the point of the garlic in the antidote and to replace with insulin. Jonathan enjoyed the back and forth in his conversation with McCullum, never missing an opportunity to needle McCullum about his new ‘condition’ and McCullum cursing at him every time. But even McCullum was more agreeable than Redgrave had been, and handed over King Arthur’s blood with very little prompting after he understood the situation. He crafted the antidote at the closest hideout he had, now as prepared as he would ever be to face the Disaster Harriet Jones. The closest entrance to the sewers was the entrance was the one behind the Ascalon Club, so it seemed like he had one more trip through the West End before this was all over.

As he emerged on the main road to pass by the Ascalon club, however, Arthur Pembleton came out of the club and headed straight towards him. This was odd, firstly because although he wasn’t welcome there he hadn’t been actively sought out by Ascalon like this, and secondly because Arthur liked to play gatekeeper, and very rarely left the club anyway.

“Ah, Dr Reid, just the Ekon I was looking for,” Arthur said, surprisingly amicably for someone who wasn’t supposed to acknowledge his existence. When Jonathan didn’t stop, he fell into step with him.

“And why is Ascalon searching for me if not to hunt me down for treason?”

“To invite you to meet with the leader of the Ascalon club,” Arthur said with a wry smile. That statement made Jonathan stop dead in his tracks, staring at Arthur as the smiling vampire turned to face him.

“Lord Redgrave requests my presence?” Jonathan asked in a state of shock.

“The leader of Ascalon, Lord Hutchinson, requests your presence.” That set Jonathan’s mind racing. The Ascalon Club had moved against their very founder, and Lord Redgrave would never sit back and allow someone else to control the club if he was even remotely involved with its working… Therefore Jonathan would have to guess that Lord Redgrave had been expelled from the club.

“What has become of Lord Redgrave then?” Jonathan asked, trying to keep the satisfaction off his face.

“The truth of his bloodline was revealed to us, thanks to you, which was deemed enough to forgive your previous transgressions against Ascalon. Lord Hutchinson wills that you meet so that you can discuss your place in this new Ascalon.”

“I have more pressing matters to attend to before I get embroiled in Ascalon politics.”

“Ah, yes, the epidemic. Of course the summons are not dire, so do not have to answered immediately, although you would benefit from Ascalon’s protection. Lord Redgrave blames you for his fall, and it is his nature to get revenge for it.”

“I do not fear Lord Redgrave. I was stronger than his executioner and I am stronger than him,” Jonathan said icily, and yet Arthur only laughed.

“The naivete of newborns never ceases to amaze!” Jonathan managed not to glower at Arthur’s mirth but he did stare at him until he quietened, waiting for an explanation. “Indeed, you are stronger than a newborn has any right to be, a true testament to the purity of your blood. However, you are still a doctor – with a reliance on your reputation as well as that of your hospital – and you still have living family. There are many ways for Lord Redgrave to harm you without being anywhere near you.” Arthur’s warning seemed to hold a grain of truth and the mention of family planted a seed of fear and doubt in Jonathan’s heart.

“I shall endeavour to come to Ascalon when I have a moment to spare,” Jonathan said, not entirely sure if he planned to follow through or not. Arthur stared at him piercingly, judging Jonathan’s words, but after a moment he simply shrugged.

“Do as you will. The invitation has been delivered.” Arthur went to move past Jonathan, but paused before he completed the motion. “Oh, and do settle down at a permanent address so that I am not reduced to a messenger boy again.”

“I apologise for the inconvenience, Arthur. And thank you for the warning,” Jonathan called after Arthur’s retreating back.

Jonathan made a snap decision that London could survive one more night of the epidemic so that he could ensure his mother’s safety and possibly hunt for Lord Redgrave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> McCullum was being difficult and didn't want to talk to Reid so you get a summary not a conversation unfortunately.  
> Also sucks to be you Lord Redgrave.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh, hey Avery.

When Jonathan arrived home Avery was busy finishing off the evening’s tasks. When he heard the front door open Avery came out to meet him.

“Ah Mr. Jonathan, it’s good to have you home again. Your mother has already retired for the night but she will be glad that you’ve returned,” Avery smiled as he greeted Jonathan.

“Avery, has anyone come calling recently? Asking about me?”

“No Mr. Jonathan, we haven’t had any visitors for quite some time. In fact will you be staying tonight, or is this simply a visit as well?” Jonathan considered for a moment, the epidemic was still a concern and apparently could not end without his direct input. But surely London could survive a day? Or two?

“I can stay until tomorrow, but then I have urgent business that I must attend to.”

“I’m sure this epidemic is keeping you rushed off your feet with hardly any time to yourself.” Avery paused to closely examine Jonathan, gaze lingering on the bloodshot eyes and pale skin. “Are you getting enough rest Mr. Jonathan? This is a very late hour for you to still be working...”

“I’m fine Avery, don’t worry.”

“Would you like me to wake you breakfast? A day off in the sun with your mother would do wonders for you both I’m sure,” Avery asked gently, but just thinking about the sun was enough to make Jonathan’s skin crawl with phantom burns.

“No thank you Avery, I will be fine as long as you leave me to rest.”

“Yes, of course Mr. Jonathan,” Avery smile again although it seemed thin-lipped and strained and Jonathan knew he had more to say.

“If you have more to say, please speak freely Avery.”

“It’s your mother, sir. She is getting worse, spending all her time talking to ghosts. I’ve had to start locking the front door and sometimes she doesn’t even recognise me.” Jonathan felt a hollow pain deep in his chest. He recognised the symptoms, and it seemed that even without Lord Redgrave’s interference his mother was not long for this world. “She needs you here Mr. Jonathan.”

“For what Avery? For what?” The cry burst from Jonathan before he could button it down, so rather than backpedal he continued. “To watch her fade? To be a ghost that haunts her? She thinks of me as just another part of her delusions! I can’t help her!”

“But you are not, Mr. Jonathan! You are the only one who can convince her that you’re still alive! And that might be the only thing that _can_ help her!”

“You’re wrong Avery,” Jonathan said quietly. He wasn’t alive, and seeing him in the graveyard with Mary had made it impossible to convince his mother against her delusions, and even if he could help with the rate at which the breakdowns had worsened it would barely help in the long run. And he couldn’t explain any of it to Avery!

“Family used to mean something to you Mr. Jonathan,” Avery almost whispered sadly. “I knew that war changes everyone, but I expected more of you that this...” A dark, dangerous anger swept through Jonathan at Avery’s words. It swallowed up the pain and confusion and weight of responsibility and he revelled in the reprieve.

“No Avery, you do not get to talk to me like that, as if you understand anything,” Jonathan growled. “ _You will care for my mother until she passes. You will never question my motives, actions or treatment towards her._ _You will not invite anyone into this house unless you clear it with me._ Do you understand me?” There was a moment of silence as the set of orders were ingrained into Avery’s psyche. It was enough time for the dark anger to begin to fade and Jonathan was left feeling somewhat empty.

“Of course Mr. Jonathan. If you will excuse me, I must return to my tasks before I turn in for the night.”

“Until the evening then,” Jonathan said to Avery’s retreating back. Jonathan withdrew to his room and took the time to think over what he’d just done to Avery. There were no loopholes to the orders – he hoped – and they shouldn’t even have much impact on his day to day activities, so why had he even done it? He didn’t know enough about how the brain was affected by his influence to be able to undo it, for all he knew he might make the situation worse. He growled to himself in frustration, he’d come home to protect his family, not make everything so much more complicated. Again Jonathan was struck by how he was ruining the lives of everyone around him, and he was now less inclined to think it was solely due to his condition.

Shaking his head to drive the thoughts off, Jonathan turned his mind to Lord Redgrave once again. His family would be safe for now, but he had no way to safeguard his own reputation or that of the hospital in so short a time-frame, so he would have to leave the hospital to deal with anything Lord Redgrave would throw at them. The only thing he could do in a single evening would be to search the surrounding areas for any trace of Lord Redgrave, then return to Harriet Jones whether he had results or not. As he sat down on the bed he suddenly remembered someone else that was an easy target nearby that Arthur hadn’t mentioned and so hadn’t crossed his mind either.

He needed to warn Clarence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God damn it Jonathan, just relax. Avery was already helping you, he's the best, making you think about your actions is a good thing. You git.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Checking in on Clarence

When Jonathan knocked on Clarence’s door the following evening he was surprised at how swiftly and enthusiastically it was answered. The door was opened fully rather than its normal crack but when Clarence saw Jonathan standing there he paused, looking confused.

“Johnny? What are you doing here? I thought you were battling the epidemic?”

“I was. I am. I just–” Jonathan cut himself off, suddenly worried how Clarence would react to the news that he might be being targeted by the Ascalon Club. Clarence frowned at his pause before inviting him to come inside. Clarence returned to the armchair he’d clearly been occupying before Jonathan arrived, but Jonathan had too much energy to sit down right now, so he paced across the space in front of the door. Clarence watched him for a moment, but didn’t tell him to stop or calm down – too used to hearing it himself and knowing how ineffectual those words were, Jonathan supposed.

“Why the past tense?” Clarence asked suddenly, making Jonathan pause and look blankly at Clarence.

“What?”

“I know languages is the one thing I’m better at than you Johnny, but even you know the difference between past and present tense. So why the confusion?” Jonathan frowned minutely, thinking back on the times he’d had to correct his tense.

“I… am very aware of the fact that I’ve died,” he said slowly. “I was attacked and left dying on the street, and it was… unpleasant.” This wasn’t a subject he’d talked about with anyone, the horror of the night making him very reluctant to, but he felt safe around Clarence, this might be the only time he can. “When I took my last breath, I knew it was my last. I knew the crushing pain in my chest was my heart failing. I knew that the darkness creeping across my vision was death.” Clarence had gone very still and rather pale at Jonathan’s descriptions, but Jonathan found he couldn’t stop now. “I’ve seen death too many times Clarence, throughout the war and even before that. I am all too aware of its finality. And I have not yet adapted to the fact that it wasn’t.”

Once Jonathan had stopped pacing he found he didn’t really know what to do with himself. He didn’t plan on staying all evening so he was reluctant to remove his coat and sit down. But he still needed to talk to Clarence, warn him about Lord Redgrave, and that didn’t seem like the type of news you dump on someone and then leave.

“I’d never really thought about… that part… before… I mean, I was so hung up on the fact that vampires are monsters that I’d forgotten that at one point they were men...” Clarence murmured, staring at Jonathan as if he were only just seeing him properly for the first time. Jonathan, however, thought about all the vampires he’d met and grimaced.

“It would be safer to think of us as monsters. Most vampires view people as anything from cattle to playthings. It seems to mostly be us ‘newborns’ that still treat humans as people.” A strange thought passed through his head then that it would be good for Clarence to meet McCullum, but the man had vanished after he’d given Jonathan King Arthur’s blood and he had no way to contact him.

It was only at this point that Jonathan truly began to notice the changes to the room. The two armchairs had been moved closer together, and on the table between them sat a rather expensive bottle of scotch with two empty glasses.

“Are you expecting company Clarence?” Jonathan asked a gnawing worry starting to build in his gut.

“Yes, actually. I received a letter that someone wants to sponsor me in my fight against vampires,” Clarence said excitedly, starting to look for something in the inner pockets of his jacket.

“Someone? They didn’t say who they were?” Jonathan asked just as Clarence extracted the letter in question.

“They raised the point that they didn’t want anyone to get their name from any communiques, which I completely understand. But they did want to meet to get all the details sorted out at some point this evening.” Jonathan took the offered letter, skim reading it as quickly as he could. There was obviously no signature of any seal so nothing that pointed fingers at Lord Redgrave, but this whole situation screamed of his manoeuvring.

“Clarence, the truth is I came here tonight to warn you. There is a member of the vampire elite that is seeking revenge against me, and he might try to do it by targeting you,” Jonathan said very quickly, aware that he couldn’t put it off any longer despite how Clarence may react.

Immediately Clarence’s eyes went wide, staring petrified at Jonathan who could hear his heartbeat spike and how shallow his breaths had become. Moving slowly and deliberately Jonathan moved in front of Clarence. He placed the letter back in his hands, but continued to hold them until Clarence looked up at him.

“Johnny, what did you do? Wh… Why would you make me a target? How do they even know who I am? Did you tell them?” Clarence’s words got faster as he spoke until he ran out of breath.

“Clarence,” Jonathan said sharply. Clarence flinched but looked up at Jonathan. “Breathe on my count. In… and out...” Slowly Clarence’s breathing came back under his control and he pulled his hands out of Jonathan’s. “Clarence, I didn’t say this just to scare you. You need to be careful, Lord Redgrave is very old and can be very cunning.”

“What do you expect me to do Johnny?” Clarence exclaimed. “If a vampire seeks to kill me that I doubt there’s much I can do to stop them.”

“As much as you can to keep yourself safe. Only go out when the sun is up, don’t open the door to people you don’t know, carry a cross around with you...” Jonathan listed off the top of his head.

Suddenly there was a knock at the door and Jonathan’s head snapped up to stare at whoever was behind it. The first thing he noticed was the heartbeat, which allowed him to relax slightly.

“Your visitor tonight is human, so I hope everything goes smoothly as I doubt my presence here would help.”

“True. I wouldn’t be surprised if they could recognise a vampire, so if you could...” But Clarence was cut off by the knock being repeated. Jonathan stood sharply, turning on his heel and heading to the kitchen before Clarence spoke again. “What are you going to do?”

“Firstly I’m going to end this epidemic. And once I’ve ensured London will survive I’m going to hunt Lord Redgrave down myself.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why, but Clarence struck me as someone who would study languages. That and trying to make their friendship to be more of an even thing, so yeah, Jonathan may be smart and all that but it doesn't mean he's better at everything than Clarence.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geoffrey has no chill

Geoffrey pushed open the gate to the West End with a scowl. He didn’t really know why he was here. The only point to having this leech strength was to hunt down leeches, or any of the multitude of of skals roaming the streets, not talking to some posh nonce about vampires. But Reid’s voice had been echoing around his head since the previous night, never loud enough or strong enough to force him to obey, but often and distracting enough to be endlessly irritating. He was hoping that if he actually did what it was asking that Reid’s voice would finally shut up.

Geoffrey was actually already aware of Clarence Crossley. A few of his newest recruits had returned clutching the warning leaflets he’d had printed, and a few nights later he’d received a letter from the man. He’d been asking about the best way to identify vampires, and the best way to contact the Guard should he discover any. He had, however, made it very clear that he had no plans to join the Guard, so Geoffrey had written the man off as a coward and sent a brusque reply that he would add any new vampires to their list if Clarence reported them.

Geoffrey sighed as he walked up the steps of the posh house, might as well get this over with. He knocked but for a while received no answer. He knocked again and this time saw the curtains move in the window next to him.

“You’re Clarence Crossley right? With the vampire warning leaflets?” Geoffrey called, glaring at the movement and questioning again why he was bothering with this.

Suddenly the door was flung open and Geoffrey was hit with a blinding light that seemed to root him to the spot. Geoffrey raised a hand to shield his eyes, peering through his fingers to see what the hell the man was doing, and eventually made out the crucifix being brandished at him. Geoffrey growled in annoyance before the man finally spoke up.

“Stay back vampire! You are not welcome in this house!” came a slightly shaky voice. Geoffrey was only mildly impressed that someone who wasn’t in the Guard or the Brotherhood had immediately recognised him as a vampire. But mostly he was just irritated at this whole situation.

“Good ‘cause I don’t want to be here, but that bastard Reid wanted me to talk to you so I guess neither of us get what we want,” Geoffrey growled. The cross was lowered, but still clutched tightly as the mousy man examined him. Geoffrey examined him right back, he seemed to be recovering from some sort of illness – and suddenly Geoffrey’s vision flickered dark and he was staring at the blood that coursed through his veins. Geoffrey took a sharp breath in, closing his eyes for a moment until he managed to wrestle down his hunger again.

“How do you know Jonathan?” Clarence asked, narrowing his eyes at Geoffrey. “And why would he send you to talk to me? Who even are you?”

“I’m Geoffrey McCullum,” Geoffrey started but wasn’t sure how to answer the other questions. Thankfully Clarence spoke up before he could work out what to say.

“Head of the Guard of Priwen?” Clarence’s eyes went wide as they swiftly passed over his eyes and fangs and Geoffrey realised that Clarence knew what Jonathan had done to him. “Come in then.” It was only when the invisible force in front of him vanished that he realised it had been there in the first place. Geoffrey looked confusedly at the door before he stepped over the threshold. Then he remembered that leeches needed an invitation to enter private buildings.

Christ there were so many stupid things about being a leech.

Clarence wasn’t sure what to do with Geoffrey in his house. He closed the door quietly behind them, still clutching the cross tightly in his hand. Geoffrey, however, couldn’t be dealing with this whole situation and unceremoniously dropped into one of the armchairs.

“So why does Reid think we should ‘chat’?” Geoffrey asked with a sneer.

“I’ve never claimed to know what Johnny is thinking,” Clarence smiled to himself as he sank into the opposite armchair. “But apparently I might be being targeted by the vampire elite, so if you could help me protect myself I would be grateful.”

“What have _you_ done to get the Ascalon Club after you? Normally they’re too interested in hosting events and pretending they run the country to bother with local nuisances...” Geoffrey examined the man closely again, baffled that Ascalon could see him as any threat at all.

“Well, apparently it’s Johnny that they’re after but… well...” Clarence’s eyes fixated on Geoffrey’s fangs for a moment before he gestured generally at him. “You know how well that goes...”

Geoffrey scoffed. He was still bitter that Jonathan had bested him. He was absolutely livid about what had happened afterwards but first and foremost he didn’t want to believe he’d been defeated by a newborn leech when he’d had all the advantages. Then Geoffrey suddenly – heard? felt? saw? – became aware of how Clarence’s heart rate had increased dramatically, and watched curiously as he twisted in his armchair to stare at… something before speaking very quietly.

“The Ascalon Club? As in the high society club? Whose headquarters is just down the road?” Clarence’s voice had been getting faster and louder as he spoke and he leapt to his feet to pace as the words continuing tumbling out. “All of my campaigning has been right on their doorstep! They must have known who I was immediately! Keeping an eye on me, spying on me, thwarting all my attempts to expose their kind to the world! Waiting til I was completely discredited and alone before coming for me! Now with Venus gone and Jonathan–” Clarence cut himself off when his eyes passed over Geoffrey again as he turned. Geoffrey thought he looked scared. And not just the paranoid panic that had fuelled the outburst, it almost seemed like the man was scared of him. Geoffrey supposed he should be.

“What has Reid done now?” Geoffrey just managed to keep his voice more polite than a snarl but it was a close thing.

“Nothing! I don’t know!” Clarence ran his fingers through his hair as he spun to face the Ascalon Club’s general direction once more. “Apparently not telling me that the biggest threat to my life and London itself lives just down the road!”

“Yeah, well, men like Reid tend to believe they’re protecting people by sparing their feelings and not telling them everything.” Geoffrey grimaced, reminded of the some of the newest recruits’ reasons for joining the Guard. “It never turns out well...” Clarence had dropped his hand from his hair, turning to watch Geoffrey at the sudden shift in tone.

“So I’m to believe you tell everyone everything?” Clarence asked, closely examining Geoffrey who started getting defensive at once.

“If it concerns their safety? Absolutely.” Geoffrey thought back on everything he’d done in the Guard. All the training, all the scouting, all the recon, keeping up to date lists of vampires around the city, regular weapons checks and patrol updates. Yes, the Guard knew everything there was to know about London’s vampires and how to hunt them. Clarence, however, was staring at him piercingly.

“And how did Priwen take to the news of your turning?” Clarence asked and Geoffrey froze immediately. He had entirely avoided the Guard since Reid had turned him because the only two endings to that meeting were: they attack him and he’d be forced to fight back, or they betray everything the Guard stands for and let him go. And he didn’t want to force that decision on any of his captains, let alone fight them.

“Don’t talk about things you don’t understand,” Geoffrey growled, rising to his feet to stare down at Clarence in an attempt to intimidate him, but the smaller man didn’t budge.

“Have you added yourself to your list of London vampires?” Clarence pushed on. Geoffrey took a step forward, baring his teeth at Clarence.

“I’m warning you Crossley–” Geoffrey began but Clarence cut him off.

“You can’t hate Jonathan for keeping secrets when you yourself are hoarding them.”

“Bollocks to that! Of course I can! I could hate him because he’s English, I could hate him because he’s a leech, or I could just hate him because he killed me and turned me into a fucking leech!” Geoffrey had been stalking towards Clarence as he’d talked, but when he got too close Clarence lifted the cross between them, forcing Geoffrey to turn away with a grimace. “What you mean is that I’m a hypocrite, and so what? Thanks to Reid I’m a fucking walking paradox, a vampire hunter turned leech.” Geoffrey felt the draining light subside and turned back to face Clarence as he lowered the cross.

“I don’t suppose it’s any consolation,” Clarence began slowly, looking at Geoffrey with what Geoffrey hoped wasn’t pity, “but he did regret what he did to you.” Geoffrey let out a bark of laughter.

“The bastard murdered the only man that defended him, a priest and his sister… twice. I doubt he has any regret left to spare for me.”

“Wait… Johnny killed Mary?” Clarence’s voice was no more than a horrified whisper.

“Aye. Crawled out of a mass grave and drained the first person he came across, which happened to be his sister. Then accidentally turned her into a leech and then had to kill her all over again.”

“Oh Johnny,” Clarence breathed, running his hand through his hair again as he stared unseeingly at the ground.

Suddenly Geoffrey noticed how much lighter the sky was outside the window. He swore to himself, marching to the window and glancing out to see the weak winter sunlight breaking over the rooftops. He swore to himself again, marching to the door and got as far as putting his hand on the doorknob when he realised that he had nowhere nearby he could reach. Clarence was watching him curiously.

“And where do you think you can reach with the sun rising?” he asked and Geoffrey bared his teeth as he tried to think of anywhere he could go. After a moment Clarence sighed. “You can spend the day here, I have other things I have to do today anyway.”

“I don’t owe you anything for this…” Geoffrey growled as he turned back to Clarence.

“You’re welcome to face the sun if you want,” Clarence said, smirking slightly as he met Geoffrey’s eye. Geoffrey frowned, it had been one of the first things he tested when he woke up a leech. Swansea’s lights had still worked somewhat, and Geoffrey had felt the need to check that the worst had actually happened. He’d watched as the flesh on his hand burned down to almost the bone, and then slowly grow back as if nothing had happened. Geoffrey was never planning to compare that feeling with the actual sun.

Geoffrey sighed, extracting a small flask from inside his jacket. “This is holy water,” he said, holding it out to Clarence. “If a leech ever gets too close just splash it on them and it’ll burn something fierce. They’ll still heal, so you’ll have to use the opportunity to… I would say stake them but you don’t seem the type. So I guess got some distance keep them at bay with your cross, seems to work well enough.” Clarence took the flask, examining the cross engraved on the outside, flicking the cap open to peer inside.

“Thank you,” Clarence said quietly, placing the holy water in his inside pocket. “Um, sleep well... I suppose...” Clarence finished lamely as he headed for the door.

“Just sod off already...” Geoffrey grumbled, eyeing up the fancy furnishings he hadn’t taken much notice of before, debating where he was going to rest.

“It’s my house...” Clarence muttered indignantly, closing the door behind him and trying not to think of the state his home would be in when he returned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Geoffrey was determined not to talk to Jonathan, but he did not put up much of a fight regarding Clarence. I honestly wasn't expecting to finish this chapter, certainly not this quick, but everyone was cooperating, so who am I to refuse?


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The return to Pembroke

It was at least a week later that Jonathan finally returned to London and in very low spirits. He’d lost so much in Scotland. William Marshall and all of his knowledge, all of his memoirs and writings that had been in the manor, and then Lady Ashbury. Oh the dear Lady Ashbury. She had been the one consistency in his unlife, she had taught him so much and yet he couldn’t save her when it mattered. All he had left was a portrait of her.

He needed to distract himself. The vampire epidemic was over but he was certain that there would still be plenty of work to do at the hospital. Upon his approach he could clearly see that much of the hospital had emptied. In the courtyard outside Milton was disassembling the tents with Nurse Branagan taking inventory on all the equipment. Milton caught his eye as he approached, but gave no more acknowledgement than a slight nod of the head. Nurse Branagan was so involved in her note taking that she didn’t notice Jonathan until he was directly in front of her.

“Oh, Dr Reid, you’ve returned. Did your urgent business go smoothly?” she asked, not taking her eyes of her notes.

“Unfortunately not, Nurse Branagan. But what’s the situation here? Has the epidemic broken at last then?”

“Yes, a great deal of patients felt well enough to check themselves out and we’ve been having fewer cases of the flu.” It was at this point she finally looked up from her notes, giving Jonathan her full attention. “You need to go see Dr Ackroyd, we’ve had to rearrange in light of Dr Swansea’s disappearance and he is acting as the administrator until something more official is arranged.”

“Of course, I shall head there now,” Jonathan said, an ominous feeling washing over him. Nurse Branagan watched him walk past, a frown on her face as he made his way past the front counter and up the stairs.

When Jonathan reached the first floor his eyes drifted to the plaque outside what had previously been Swansea’s office. A feeling of guilt twisted his stomach, but it was less than before and also swamped but the terrible sadness that currently consumed him. He knocked and Dr Ackroyd’s sharp voice immediately responded with an “Enter.” Opening the door revealed Dr Ackroyd to be sat behind Swansea’s desk, all of the personal effects had been moved to the tables around the edge of the room and every inch of the desk itself was covered in paperwork. “Ah, Dr Reid, glad to see you back safely. What was the urgent business that called you away so suddenly?”

Jonathan was tempted not to answer, or to point out that it wasn’t any of his business, but eventually decided that it wouldn’t do well to aggravate the current head of the hospital. “The death of a loved one,” he answered shortly.

“Sorry for your loss,” was the almost reflex response before Dr Ackroyd continued. “But leaving a note on the front desk after you have already left during a crisis is not the way to give notice of your absence.”

“Well at the time I had no other options and no one was around to discuss it with,” Jonathan snapped back.

Dr Ackroyd finally looked up from his paperwork to stare at Jonathan disapprovingly. “Someone is always here Dr Reid,” he scolded before sighing. “Either way, that is not the matter at hand. Are you aware of the current state of the hospital?”

“Nurse Branagan said that many patients had checked themselves out and that the epidemic had finally broken.”

“Both correct, however they are unfortunately mostly unrelated. After you left the newspapers printed a series of articles that proved that the main benefactors of the hospital – the Ashbury family – had been killing patients for sport, and that Dr Swansea was complicit in their actions.” At the mention of Lady Ashbury the entire scene from the manor flashed through Jonathan’s mind, and he watched once more as his love went up in flames. It took him a moment to realise that Dr Ackroyd had continued speaking. “This does unfortunately call into question all of Dr Swansea’s actions as the hospital administrator, including his expedited hiring of you.”

“What are you implying Dr Ackroyd?” Jonathan asked darkly, glaring at the man staring up at him. “Are you suggesting that I was also involved in these murders?”

“There is no proof of that one way or the other, but no matter what we say the general public will not trust this hospital while you are here.”

Jonathan blinked as he processed that sentence. “Excuse me?”

“We’ve had to make some drastic changes just to stop from being closed down. We’ve had to stop taking money from the Ashburys meaning we’ve had to cut half the staff just to keep on top of our budget. And the only way to save the reputation of this hospital is to say that you quit when this all came to light, which is why you haven’t been at the hospital.”

“So I no longer have a job here?” Jonathan growled.

“Unfortunately not. Dr Reid I wish you to know that despite how I may have acted I do think you are a very capable doctor, I am certain you will not have problems finding work elsewhere.”

“What a great comfort Waverley, thank you,” Jonathan snarled, turning away from the man as he felt his fangs descend. “Has anyone entered my room?”

“We couldn’t find the key, but you will need to remove all your personal effects as soon as possible.” Dr Ackroyd’s attention had returned to his paperwork when Jonathan had turned away, assuming that Jonathan had taken the news well and was planning on leaving.

“No,” Jonathan snapped back. “I need the work space and with fewer staff members it seems that the hospital doesn’t.” Dr Ackroyd froze, his pen pooling ink into a large blot on the paper as he stared up at Jonathan.

“The matter still stands that you don’t work for the hospital, so you can’t use hospital space.”

“Unless given permission by the administration.”

“Dr Reid, I cannot give you permission to work here. The hospital is barely surviving as it is, if someone who is even possibly linked to the murders is here then we will never get more funding!”

“Frankly Waverley, I don’t care. I will stop treating patients if it will help the hospital but I need the room.”

“Dr Reid, Jonathan, everyone else here is under the impression that you are a good person, prove them right and me wrong and make this easy. Be reasonable or I will have you removed and we shall deliver your personal effects to your house.”

“No, Waverley!” Jonathan spun around and Waverley felt a deep fear in the powerful, dangerous look in Jonathan’s eye. “ _You will give me permission to use my room and forbid everyone else from entering._  Have I made myself clear?”

Dr Ackroyd had to take a minute to understand what was happening. There was no way the hospital could survive with any lingering hints of Dr Swansea and Jonathan Reid was a walking talking reminder of him. And yet Jonathan’s voice was still in his head, repeating and repeating over and over again that he had to remain. There was paperwork here somewhere that could grant permission but he couldn’t give permission if the hospital was going to survive but he couldn’t think straight because that deep voice was filling his mind.

“Yes, of course. I will get that sorted for you Dr Reid.”

“Thank you Waverley. I shall leave you to get everything organised.” With that Jonathan spun around on his heel, his coat billowing out behind him as he stormed from the room. He slammed the door behind him and Dr Ackroyd released a breath he didn’t realise he’d been holding. He’d always felt something off about Dr Reid, something that no one else could see, and this meeting had been the same feeling but a thousand times worse. Something had changed in Dr Reid, something dangerous that threatened the hospital and everyone that still remained here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow Jonathan is not having a good time right now. Not at all.  
> Just a warning that the next chapter might take a little while longer to come out.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Return to the West End

Jonathan stormed into his room, which was going to remain his room despite what Dr Ackroyd thought was best, and took a few calming breaths. He shouldn’t have gotten that angry, the hospital had been put in a difficult position and everyone was just trying to deal with it the best they could. But of course Dorothy Crane had proof for her blackmail, otherwise there would have been no weight to her threat. Jonathan was angry at himself that he hadn’t destroyed it, or at the very least asked about it. And of course Lord Redgrave had managed to not only locate it but also print it. Jonathan hadn’t expected him to be able to affect the hospital’s reputation in such a short amount of time, what else could he have done?

It was the quickest he’s ever got to the West End from Pembroke. He didn’t give any pause to the people on the main street, even Charlotte who called out to him as he approached.

“Dr Reid! I must speak with you!”

“Later, Miss Ashbury,” he snapped back.

“No, Dr Reid. You must explain–”

“ _Later!_ ” he snarled, barely catching her eye as he stormed past her. He swept up the stairs and through the doors of his house, and was immediately worried when Avery didn’t come to greet him, or at least find out who had come in. He glanced around and saw that he was just sitting down in the living room, not busy with any of the usual household tasks. Jonathan entered slowly, all his energy and haste lost as dread filled his being.

“Ah, Mr Jonathan, you’ve returned.” Avery’s gaze had turned to Jonathan slowly and there was an emptiness there that put ice in Jonathan’s heart.

“Avery, what happened?” Jonathan asked, his voice not much more than a whisper.

“I can’t say for sure. Your mother was in her study, having her usual afternoon tea with her ‘family’, when she suddenly collapsed. I tried to help her, but I didn’t know what to do.” Avery paused at that point, his face the purest expression of guilt. “But I didn’t call a doctor, it felt wrong to bring someone else into the house. It might have saved her, but I couldn’t do it.”

“Avery, I’m so sorry.” Jonathan felt tears beginning to build and turned away from Avery so that he couldn't see. This was his fault, if he hadn’t mesmered Avery his mother might still be alive. He was now directly responsible for the death of half of his family.

“You weren’t here Mr Jonathan, there was nothing you could do.” Jonathan couldn’t bring himself to correct him.

“You don’t have to stay Avery. There’s no good left in this house, you don’t have to suffer here with me.”

“I have nowhere else to go. And there was good here once, Mr Jonathan, that is worth protecting.” He stood up stiffly. “And I will preserve those happy times for as long as I am here. Your room is ready for you if you are staying this evening, although if you can’t bear the silence I understand. Goodnight Mr Jonathan.” At that Avery moved passed Jonathan, disappearing upstairs and leaving Jonathan alone with his thoughts. The silence of the house settled on him like a physical weight, pressing down on him the knowledge that this was his fault. Suddenly he could hear Avery’s heart beat, the steady drum reminding him that he hadn’t fed since before he left. He knew he had to leave then. He couldn’t risk killing Avery, not after everything else he’d done to him.

When he emerged back into the London air he took a deep breath and tried to focus his thoughts. Elisabeth was gone – no don’t think about that. His mother was gone – no don’t think about that either. Clarence was… He needed to check on Clarence.

He shadow-jumped down the stairs before even considering who was around, practically running down the road, needing something, anything to go right this evening. Charlotte caught his eye as he rushed past, glaring at him with such rage that he almost stopped, but when she didn’t say anything he simply continued past.

When Jonathan got close enough to Clarence’s house to see inside, he was so relieved to find him alive that he had to take a moment to collect himself before knocking on the door. It was only a moment later that Clarence opened the door and Jonathan got a proper look at him rather than just his blood. He looked… healthier. It hadn’t been long enough for as much improvement as Jonathan would have liked, but Clarence’s body seemed to have flushed out most of the poison at this point.

“Johnny? What are you doing here? I thought you’d be at the hospital… Come in, come in,” Clarence gestured him inside and Jonathan tried not to frown at the mention of Pembroke. Clarence however still seemed to notice, so he frowned slightly instead. “What’s wrong?” Jonathan felt something break inside him at the question. He jumped to the nearest armchair, dropping his head into his hands as he sat down. Clarence jumped at Jonathan’s sudden disappearance, looking around wildly to see where he’d gone. When he saw him again he moved to the other armchair, staring at Jonathan before he could think what to say. “Johnny, what happened?” Jonathan dropped his hands and Clarence was confused and worried at the blood that seemed to be staining them.

“Well, I suppose the good news is that I stopped the epidemic.” Clarence watched as a single drop of blood escaped Jonathan’s eye and dripped onto his hand. “I lost my job at the hospital.” Jonathan’s gaze dropped to the blood on his hand. “My mother is dead.” Another drop of blood joined the first. “And the only woman I have ever loved killed herself as I watched.”

Clarence’s thoughts turned immediately to Venus. Time hadn’t helped to ease the pain, but now when he thought about her it was the happy times that came to mind first, rather than the fact she was murdered by his oldest friend. Clarence had accepted that Jonathan had killed his wife, but he hadn’t forgiven him for it, and he honestly didn’t know how to react to Jonathan apparently going through the same pain without it sounding… bitter.

“What happened to Emelyne?”

“She… she’s been ill for a long time. But she collapsed, and because of me Avery couldn’t call a doctor. Now he’s blaming himself and I’m left with the knowledge that I’m the cause of all the anguish in my family.”

“Why couldn’t Avery call a doctor? He was great at looking after us, and everyone else…” Jonathan stiffened before meeting Clarence’s gaze.

“I was trying to keep Lord Redgrave out of my house! I… I used my influence to stop Avery inviting anyone inside.” Clarence took a sharp breath.

“Including the doctor that could have saved Emelyne’s life… Oh, Johnny...” Clarence sighed and Jonathan licked the blood off his hand before more bloody tears took their place.

“Clarence, I’m sorry for this...”

“For what? Being sad? Johnny, I know what you’re going through, keeping everything inside will only make it more painful. Just, try not to bleed on the carpet.” Suddenly Jonathan sat up straight, staring at Clarence as if he’d only just realised it was him sitting in the chair opposite him.

“And the only reason you do is because of me! Clarence I’m so sorry. I didn’t even think about–” Clarence held up a hand to stop Jonathan’s apology.

“I’m not going to say that this isn’t a painful conversation for me. I am very aware of the fact that it was you who killed Venus. But I am still your friend, and I’m not going to make you deal with this on your own.”

“Clarence… thank you. I don’t deserve this...” Clarence stood up, withdrawing his handkerchief from his jacket pocket. He held it out, going so far as to place it in Jonathan’s bloody hands when he didn’t make a move to take it.

“You’re resting here today, no question.”

“Thank you, Clarence.”

“It’s fine Johnny. The sun is going to be up soon, just, go to sleep.” Jonathan used the handkerchief to wipe his eyes, choosing to once again lick the blood off his hands. Clarence felt his stomach turn at the sight and chose that moment to get the room divider from upstairs. Jonathan could always sleep in a different part of the house, but they’d fallen into this strange pattern now and Clarence was reluctant to break it. When he reached the bottom of the stairs again Clarence could see the first rays of sunshine beginning to break over the rooftops. Jonathan had folded up his handkerchief and was just staring at it in his fingers.

“Venus stitched your initials onto this...” he murmured, running his fingers over the threads.

“Yes. She wasn’t the best at needlework, gave up after the third one, but I like to keep one with me.”

“I’m sorry I ruined it.”

“Johnny, it’s a handkerchief, that’s what they’re for. Now go to sleep, we can talk more this evening.” Jonathan slumped back in the chair, leaning his head against the back.

“Alright Clarence. You need some rest as well.”

“Yes of course Johnny,” Clarence replied, but he didn’t know if Jonathan had heard him, as it looked like he’d already fallen asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay on this chapter, I had a sentence summary written for ages but it didn't want to manifest as anything longer than that. But all in all I like how it came out.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A vampire in an anti-vampire society meeting, what could go wrong?

When Jonathan woke up that evening it was to a sharp rap on the door. His head snapped up towards the sound, seeing a beating heart behind the wood that he recognised but couldn’t put a name to.

“Oh damn, I forgot...” Clarence whispered to himself. Jonathan turned in time to see Clarence dropping a newspaper onto the table as he darted to the door. “Hey Tristan. Listen, I have a friend over–”

“A friend? Are you cheating on me Clarence?” the stranger responded and Clarence simply sighed.

“Tristan, he just lost his mother, now is not the time.” It was then that Jonathan remembered where he recognised the man from, this was the person that was sponsoring Clarence’s war on vampires. Who had interrupted his warning to Clarence. Who he suspected worked for Lord Redgrave.

“I didn’t realise you had plans Clarence. Please don’t change them on my account, it might help me take my mind off things...” Clarence turned to Jonathan, his uncertainty clear on his face.

“Wow, that’s a deep voice. Who have you got in there?” Clarence dutifully ignored the strange man on his doorstep.

“You are aware of what we’ll be talking about?” Clarence narrowed his eyes.

“Vampires… yes I know.” Jonathan couldn’t help but smile at the irony of it, although it was fleeting and the darkness soon returned.

“What kind of a tone is that? Is this one of those posh brainwashed idiots who thinks you’re mad? Do I need to fight him?”

“No Tristan, it’s fine. Just come in and calm down.” Clarence opened the door to reveal a tall, gangly man with a flop of blond hair.

“I am calm. I’m always calm Clarence.” He was still talking very fast, almost bounding over Clarence in his eagerness to get inside and confront Jonathan. He dashed in front of where Jonathan was sitting, attempting to loom over him. “Hey, you! Who do you even think you are?” With a sigh, Jonathan stood up. The man seemed taken aback by Jonathan’s height, clearly used to being the tallest man in the room. Jonathan held out his hand with a polite smile.

“Good evening sir, I’m Doctor Jonathan Reid.”

“Tristan James,” the man introduced himself with a quick grasp of Jonathan’s hand before launching into a barrage of speech. “And what on earth do you think you’re doing? Ridiculing Clarence is the stupidest thing you could do! Vampires are everywhere around us and Clarence is the only one who’s trying to stop them! By stopping him you’re letting the vampires win! What more proof do you need of vampires than everything that’s happened to London!”

“Tristan! Tristan stop. Johnny’s my best friend, has been since we were children. He was the only one who believed me about vampires.” Clarence pulled Tristan back from Jonathan, tugging him into a chair before he could talk himself into a deeper hole.

“Wait really? But… but you’re a doctor, a man of science, yet you believe in vampires?” Tristan asked, staring from Clarence to Jonathan and back in swift succession. Jonathan resisted the urge to smirk.

“Is that really so hard to believe?” Jonathan returned to his armchair and Clarence sat between them, nervously glancing from one to the other.

“Well… yes.” Tristan sat up straighter, closely examining Jonathan. “So what brought that belief on?”

“Excuse me?”

“Men of science don’t believe in creatures of the night for no reason, you guys are all about proof and experimentation and stuff. So I assume something must have happened to change your mindset, and I want to know what it was.”

“Not one for mincing words are you Mr James.” Jonathan raised an eyebrow at the man but he didn’t flinch or react, merely smiling enigmatically.

“When it comes to threats against humanity and society, I believe in having all the information out in the open.”

“Of course,” Jonathan looked at Clarence, meeting his concern with a relaxed smile. He had gotten used to and adept at lying in the past month, and now Clarence could get to see it too. “When I returned to London from the front I was attacked. If it hadn’t been for the Guard of Priwen I wouldn’t be sat here today. I… I don’t even know what it was, it didn’t look human, it was almost… a ghoul.” Jonathan felt wrong using the word ghoul, he managed to translate it to the word Skal in his mind and going backwards was strange. Tristan, however, nodded at this explanation.

“There have been so many feral ghouls around the city, I’m surprised that the city has survived as well as it has.”

“Disease has been rampant across all of the districts, it’s been keeping me very busy. So tell me Mr James, how did you get involved in this venture?” Jonathan stared hard at Tristan, closely examining the man’s every action and reaction.

“Family matters. My father worked for what he thought was a well standing Earl, but the man turned out to be a vampire. My father got entranced with the lifestyle, with the power and the bloodshed, and after years of loyal work, he finally ‘earned the right’ to be turned. I was only a boy, I saw him die. I saw him choke on the blood as he drank it, heard his breathing fail, saw the life leave his eyes.” Tristan swallowed, his gaze staring unfocused at the floor, and Jonathan could almost see the scene replaying in his mind. “He woke up as a rabid beast, no thought, no life, no… meaning. He ate the family dog.” Tristan blinked, his mind returning to the present and locking eyes with Jonathan once again. “I decided at that moment to fight against vampires, to do everything I can to stop them.” A tense silence settled after that statement, and Clarence glanced between the two of them.

“Well, you both know what happened to me,” he said after a moment, and Jonathan caught Clarence’s eye, breaking the stand-off with Tristan.

“Clarence I–” Jonathan began but was almost immediately cut off by Tristan launching into a coughing fit. This took Jonathan by surprise, as when he’d first examined Tristan there hadn’t seemed to be anything wrong with him. Jonathan watched as Tristan finished coughing, but he couldn’t see anything immediately wrong, not even any long term issues. Suddenly Jonathan caught the scent of blood and he took a sharp breath in as his hunger reared up. Tristan wiped his mouth with his handkerchief and Jonathan’s gaze fixated on the blood as Tristan stuffed the cloth back into his pocket.

“Sorry about that, I must have caught something on the journey up.”

“Would you allow me to examine you?” Jonathan asked.

“No thank you. I’ll be fine. I could do with a drink though.”

“Oh, I completely forgot. Are you alright with tea today?” Clarence asked, standing up to head to the kitchen.

“Yes, of course. Thank you Clarence,” Tristan called after Clarence. Jonathan watched as Clarence disappeared through the doorway to the kitchen and he immediately turned to Tristan.

“ _Who is the Earl your father worked for_?” he asked, glaring at Tristan, determined to find out the truth. For as much as he believed of Tristan’s story, he did not trust him.

“Earl Cairns. My family have worked for his for generations as they’ve worked they way up through nobility,” Tristan answered immediately before retrieving his bloody handkerchief from his pocket once again. “He doesn’t know I’m here, he doesn’t even know that I know he’s a vampire.” Tristan looked down at the blood on his handkerchief before balling the whole thing up and throwing it into the fire. There was a sharp smell that took Jonathan by surprise, but before he could work out what it was or where it had come from Tristan continued speaking. “Vampires are all about blood, isn’t that right Johnny?” Jonathan bristled at the use of his nickname, only Clarence and his fam– only Clarence called him that. But before he could even do more than frown Tristan had pulled a dagger from his jacket. Jonathan leapt to his feet but Tristan, rather than attacking Jonathan, slashed at his own wrist. Jonathan’s fangs immediately descended and he lunged for the bleeding wound with a snarl before he even knew what was doing. He tasted blood and only when his hunger was being satiated did he realise how bad it had gotten. He needed this. He drank deeply, and it felt good.

Suddenly there was blinding, burning pain across his face and he reeled backwards. Jonathan covered his face with his hand, the flesh still searing and he stumbled away from Tristan and Clarence who he hadn’t even noticed re-entering the room. Clarence was holding a flask of some kind, there appeared to be water covering Tristan and Jonathan’s shirt but he didn’t understand how water could burn him like the sun. Tristan was pale and slightly sweaty, hand gripping his bleeding wrist tightly. Jonathan hated how his gaze fixated on the blood before he was able to put his hunger from his mind and attempt to examine the wound in earnest.

“I will need to clean and dress that wound,” Jonathan said through his fingers when the pain across his face finally stopped getting worse.

“Like hell you will,” Tristan gasped out, trying to shy away from him.

“Johnny, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Clarence said quietly, putting the empty flask back in his pocket.

“If you throw temptation at me when I’m not prepared I will not be able to resist. Now that I know what to expect I will be fine.” Jonathan moved his hand away from his face, feeling his healing already getting to work. “And you are going to go into shock at the very least, or even bleed out if you don’t let me treat that.” Tristan was staring at Jonathan’s face, watching horrified as his flesh began to knit itself back together.

“No. No. Nope. I’m leaving.” Tristan got to his feet and Jonathan remained completely still as the man edged around him, heading towards the front door. Suddenly there was a neat rap of knuckles on the door and Tristan opened the door before Clarence could even react. “You said you would get here quicker than that. Just come in and conclude your business, I’m going home.” Tristan stumbled past the man, disappearing into the night before the new arrival shut the door behind him.

“Dr Reid, a pleasure to see you again,” Lord Redgrave drawled, a triumphant smile on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dun dun duuuh!  
> Enjoy the cliffhanger  
> I don't know how long it's going to last  
> mwahahaha


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jonathan vs Lord Redgrave

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I use the phrase thrall here, I know it's used in various vampire fiction to mean different things, but here I'm just using it to mean someone that's been mesmered to work for you. No blood drinking necessary, just good old fashioned mind control.

Jonathan’s first reaction was to move in front of Clarence. He attempted to do it subtly but Lord Redgrave’s eyes tracked his every move.

“How noble,” Redgrave sneered, rolling his eyes before strolling closer. “But as you’ve made it abundantly clear, you are stronger than me. I am here to talk, I don’t care about your… thrall.”

“Clarence is my friend, not my thrall,” Jonathan snapped back, glaring at Redgrave who paused in his approach. He stared piercingly at Clarence, closely examining the man that was staring transfixed at the elder vampire, panic brewing just beneath the surface. Redgrave sneered again, his distaste clear on his face. Jonathan moved to block Clarence’s face from view, pulling the man’s attention back to him again. “Why on earth would you want to talk?” Before he answered, Redgrave continued his casual stroll towards them and Jonathan tried to push Clarence backwards who went only too willingly. Redgrave sank into the chair, glancing around at the furnishings as if deeming them not worth his presence.

“You were reborn as an Ekon for less than a month and managed to raise several progeny, single handedly crippled Priwen and destroyed the longest standing vampire society keeping the Empire on track. Talking would be the most reasonable thing you’ve done so far.”

“If you’re talking about Ascalon it has continued on without you. In fact, I have been invited to be a member,” Jonathan stared down at Redgrave who schooled his expression carefully but Jonathan could feel the rage emanating off him.

“The Ascalon Club has become a perversion of its purpose. Men intent on hoarding power for themselves, not for the good of the Empire. Any man who is a part of such a sham is no lance-bearer, no true protector of the realm,” Redgrave growled out before blinking slowly and regaining his composure. “Now sit down and let’s talk.” When no one moved, Redgrave’s attention turned to Clarence. “ _Sit down_.” Clarence obeyed immediately, sinking into the chair furthest from Lord Redgrave. It was then that the severity of the situation dawned on Jonathan. Clarence was a hostage. Lord Redgrave was no threat to him, but he had complete control of Clarence. Jonathan sat down between them, glaring at Redgrave with every fibre of rage in his body. “There we are. Much more civilised.” Lord Redgrave smiled and Jonathan resisted the urge to punch it straight off his face. Or maybe a blood spear, he hadn’t decided yet.

“Well sir, you’ve invited yourself into my house as if it was your own and forced yourself upon us. So if you wish to be civilised, please start by introducing yourself,” Clarence said staring at Redgrave with a strange mixture of fear and indignation. Lord Redgrave’s gaze slid slowly to Clarence but it only seemed bored.

“Everyone here of relevance already knows who I am. You are merely the refreshment.” Then Redgrave’s gaze turned hard and cold. “ _Now remain silent and_ _let the_ _important_ _people talk_.” Clarence took a sharp breath in before his eyes glazed over slightly, turning away from Redgrave to instead watch Jonathan. Jonathan felt the rage flare up inside him, but attempted to school his expression when he turned back to Redgrave.

“If you were aiming for me to be reasonable this is not the way to do it,” Jonathan said with forced calm. “Release him and you might find me almost agreeable.” Lord Redgrave raised an eyebrow.

“Just friends, you said?” he asked, smirking in an attempt to get Jonathan to squirm. When he was unsuccessful however he simply sighed. “Very well, _you may speak if you wish_. Although no banal questions, take pleasure in the fact that you are alive and allow us to conclude our business.” Clarence blinked, snapping back to full awareness. His gaze snapped back to Redgrave but fear seemed to have won out over indignation for now and he sank back into his chair as far as he could. Jonathan wished he could apologise to Clarence, but it felt cheapened by Redgrave’s presence. So the best solution would be to play along with his game and force him to leave as soon as possible.

“So, Lord Redgrave, what was it you wanted to talk about?”

“Still so straight to the point. We have time Dr Reid. Tell me, how has your week been? Where was it that you needed to visit outside of London so urgently?”

“I had a multitude of things to deal with,” Jonathan began, debating how much to tell him. “I was visiting the Ashbury estate after the Lady so swiftly left the capital.”

“The Ashbury estate...” Lord Redgrave scratched his chin as he appeared to try and recall something. “I believe that was somewhere far to the north… possibly even so far as Scotland.” Then he scoffed. “Such a dreary, uncultured country.”

“I wasn’t there for the culture, I was there for answers,” Jonathan growled.

“Yes, even for a newborn you always seem to have so many questions. Did you ever find out who your Maker was?” Jonathan couldn’t help but smile as it began to dawn on him how Redgrave might react to who his Maker was.

“Indeed I did. A mysterious figure to say the least. He only ever appeared before me as a hovering phantom made entirely out of blood. He had four horns like some sort of demon.” Jonathan attempted to keep the reveal slow, to force Redgrave to work out who he was hinting at and was not disappointed by his stony expression. “He seemed to talk in an almost archaic form of English, most of the time it just sounded like riddles.”

“Dr Reid, this is folly. If you do not know it is nothing to be ashamed of, but trying to make yourself feel important by inventing a tale including the Wild Horned Man is utterly ridiculous. He is a myth, nothing more!”

“He is the first son of the Red Queen. He is the land, and I his champion. And he asked me to call him Myrddin Wyllt.”

Jonathan smiled once again, apparently taking great pleasure in antagonising the ancient vampire that had him trapped in his own chair. Clarence didn’t really understand what Jonathan was saying but anything that made someone glare like that couldn’t be good. Clarence wished Jonathan would just make him leave, apparently he was stronger than this Lord Redgrave, but he seemed intent on playing this game, and Clarence could think of nothing to do but watch.

“Well then champion of the land, tell me, how was the Lady Ashbury?” Jonathan stiffened immediately, he definitely was not ready to talk about the Lady Ashbury, especially not with the likes of Lord Redgrave.

“It is not my place to disclose a Lady’s business. Honestly, all this talk of being civilised and you’re attempting to use me to divine a Lady’s secrets.”

“I don’t rightly care for any secrets the Lady Ashbury may have. But it seemed important to you that you see her immediately, and I simply wish to know why.” Jonathan looked down at the carpet, all this talk of Elisabeth was making him feel so sad and guilty that he was distracted. He wanted to move the conversation on but wasn’t sure where to go with it.

“Well, I am not going to tell you. It is my private business.” Then Jonathan suddenly recalled who else had been in Ashbury Manor, and he realised how to rile up Lord Redgrave. “Speaking of makers, do you know who the Lady Ashbury’s maker was?” Lord Redgrave sighed.

“I know she is almost as old as I am, but everything else she kept a mystery. And frankly, I don’t care, she is unimportant. A woman has no place as anything other than a mother, and as an Ekon the Lady Ashbury cannot fulfill that role, therefore has nothing to contribute to society.” Jonathan felt a stab of rage, his hand curling into a fist before he could control it.

“Ignoring your entirely backwards view of women, Lady Ashbury was the only one who offered to help me through this whole ordeal and I will not have you speak ill of her. And her maker was William Marshal himself. He had been in hiding in the basement of her manor since the previous Great Hunt, and I even had a conversation with him.” Lord Redgrave had almost gone slack-jawed, staring at Jonathan in utter disbelief.

“Sir William Marshal… has been… alive… this whole time? He…” Redgrave trailed off, aghast at the realisation that the man he’d idolised, the man he’d worshipped for hundreds of years had been so close and he had never known. His gaze locked on Jonathan with an intensity Jonathan had never seen from him before. “Take me to him at once!” Jonathan smirked.

“No.”

“Dr Reid, Sir William Marshal is bigger than you, or me, or the quarrel between us. Take me to him!”

“Firstly, I wouldn’t even if I could. Secondly, he is now dead. Beheaded and reduced to ash.”

“If you… in any way... harmed… Sir William Marshal… I will bring down the full fury of London upon you!”

“You are no longer in the position to make that threat, Lord Redgrave.” Lord Redgrave sat there for a few moments, his outrage and fury stewing as he thought on William Marshal. Then, suddenly, he relaxed all at once, the tension leaving his body as he turned back to Jonathan.

“I see what it is you’re doing. This is another tale you’ve invented in some attempt to punish me, thinking you can play this game better than me. You are mistaken. You eloped with the Lady Ashbury for a week or so and are attempting to make yourself feel more important and diminish my own reputation. A much less interesting time than I expected, Dr Reid.” Lord Redgrave sat up straight, stretching out his back before smiling at Jonathan. “I conversely have been at this far longer than you and have had a very successful week. To start with–”

“I already know what you did to the hospital. You used Dorothy Crane’s blackmail material to cripple the hospital, resulting in me losing my job,” Jonathan said curtly.

“Indeed. One of the simplest institutions I’ve ever had to take down. Honestly Dr Reid, no one there knew anything, and you and Dr Swansea had no safeguards in place if neither of you were there. So simple.” Redgrave shook his head in bemusement. “You did, at the very least, try with you own house.” Jonathan froze.

“You were at my house?”

“Well of course. The three main places to target a man are his work, his family and his social circle. Your butler kindly told me that he couldn’t invite me in, and that I would have to leave. But your mother often wanted to leave the house, and eventually the butler took her out for a sunset stroll through the park. He sat by very patiently while your mother told me everything there was to know about your family.” Jonathan had to grit his teeth to prevent himself from growling. The fact that Lord Redgrave had gotten to his mother and Avery made him sick to his stomach, and his blood boil with rage. “And so I gave her ‘milk’ to put in her tea. A gift from her husband, that he insisted be in every cup. A simple poison, entirely undetectable, almost always thought to be a health complication.”

“You… killed my mother?” Jonathan growled out through his teeth.

“I never do the dirty work myself Dr Reid. I simply convinced your mother that Aubrey Reid wanted her to join him.” Jonathan’s eyes went wide and he got half way out of his chair before he regained his composure. He dropped back into the chair but before he could think of anything to say, and before Lord Redgrave could wipe the satisfied smirk of his face Clarence quietly spoke up.

“Who was Tristan?” Lord Redgrave raised his eyes to the ceiling with a sigh, before narrowing his gaze at Clarence.

“Pardon?”

“Well, I’m obviously the ‘social circle’ in this situation,” Clarence rubbed at the back of his neck. “And considering that Tristan was how you got into my house I’m assuming he worked for you, so who was he really? Was anything he said true?”

“Mr Tristan James. He works for Earl Cairns, and since the failed turning of his father, for me. Earl Cairns has been attempting to gain himself more power over the years, political or otherwise, and I was using Mr James to keep myself informed with his movements. But I could spare him for up to a month, perfect for offering money to desperate people and getting me invited into houses.”

“Well, congratulations, you’re in my house. What’s next?”

“I kill you while Dr Reid watches helplessly so that he knows he is entirely defeated.”

Jonathan leapt to his feet to launch himself at Redgrave, whatever the consequences. But Redgrave anticipated the move, rising to his feet at the same time. Then before Jonathan could make another move Lord Redgrave made a fist and it felt like Jonathan’s body turned to lead. Clarence stared aghast while Jonathan stood there frozen, claws extended on his hands, face twisted in a snarl while Lord Redgrave chuckled to himself, slowly making his way towards Clarence. “It is true that if we ever came to blows you would probably defeat me. However I have had hundreds of years to perfect this technique, and you will not be able to move for at least an hour.” Jonathan couldn’t turn to watch when Redgrave moved out of his field of view, but he heard Clarence’s yelp as Redgrave pulled him out of his chair. “Come along now, move to where our dear doctor can see you.” Redgrave wasn’t even attempting to mesmer Clarence, simply pulling the man along with his strength. Clarence was trying to struggle, to get Redgrave off him but Redgrave simply dug his claws into Clarence’s shoulder. With a yelp of pain Clarence stilled his struggles, letting Redgrave pull him into position. “Say goodbye to your friend, Dr Reid.”

Jonathan could do nothing but watch as Redgrave sank his fangs into Clarence’s neck.

Clarence screamed.

Jonathan raged.

Lord Redgrave met Jonathan’s eye, smiling before closing his eyes and beginning to drink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel so evil.  
> And yet I love it so much.
> 
> Totally wasn't internally screaming the entire time I was writing this chapter...


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jonathan vs Redgrave continued

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't realise I was going to get quite this graphic when I started writing this. Warning for blood and guts and descriptions of internals.

Jonathan wanted to close his eyes. He wanted not to have to watch this. He wanted to kill Lord Redgrave. He wanted the man destroyed, on his knees, begging for his life.

He needed to move!

The world around him slowed down, the very air seeming to thicken and turn red.

He forced himself to think. Lord Redgrave was an Ekon, so whatever had him trapped had to be shadows or blood. It didn’t feel like he was being held down from the outside, so probably not shadows. His very body refused to move, as if solid metal had filled his limbs. Lord Redgrave had frozen his blood in place.

He felt angry. He felt… vulnerable. He felt… almost violated. He’d only ever controlled his own blood, to control another person’s was never something he’d even considered.

He concentrated. He felt the power in his own blood, his own control over it. It was so… stiff, so uncooperative. He tried to force it out of himself, to push it around him but was only partially successful.

Instead he stared at Redgrave. He used his rage, targeting at the man with every ounce of power he had. It was an effort, the most difficulty he’d ever had controlling blood, but he sent everything rushing at the man.

The world suddenly returned to full speed and colour. A blood spear was flying straight at Lord Redgrave’s face, although he was too busy feeding to have noticed. It hit him full on, tearing him off of Clarence and sending him flying backwards through the doorway to the stairs. Clarence crumpled to the floor, Jonathan spared him a glance, happy to see that he was still breathing – although shallowly – and gripping at his neck with a pale hand.

Lord Redgrave had gotten to his feet, blood dripping from his mouth and his head split open by the blood spear.

“How are you–” Redgrave began but Jonathan had already launched himself at him. Jonathan slashed at Redgrave with his claws, and Redgrave leapt back but a fraction too late gaining a large gash across his chest. Lord Redgrave returned the gesture but his claws merely bounced off Jonathan’s shield. Jonathan pulled his saw from beneath his coat and Redgrave’s eyes went wide when he saw it. With a puff of black smoke Redgrave leapt to the top of the stairs trying to escape. Jonathan set off after him with a snarl, a swipe of the saw passing through another cloud of black smoke as Redgrave jumped away again. Jonathan set off after him again, deciding to go straight for the only door upstairs to block Redgrave’s escape rather than the man himself. Lord Redgrave froze, watching Jonathan carefully.

“How are you even moving?”

“My blood is mine to control, and no one else’s,” Jonathan spat before launching himself at Redgrave. The saw ripped through the fabric and flesh of Redgrave’s arm, leaving a spray of blood splatter across half the room. Lord Redgrave jumped past him, trying to get to the door, but Jonathan anticipated the move, following behind and slicing through Redgrave’s side with his saw before digging into his back with his claws. “No getting away from this… my Lord,” Jonathan hissed into his ear. He yanked Redgrave backwards, throwing him onto the floor and placing his foot on his chest. Lord Redgrave tried to push him off, but his arm hadn’t healed yet and he didn’t have the strength with just one. Jonathan grabbed the hand that was wrapped around his ankle, stretching the arm up before slicing through the upper arm with all his strength. He felt the grinding of saw against bone, dropping the limp limb to the ground before turning to stare Lord Redgrave dead in the eye. He leaned down hard on Redgrave’s chest who let out a wheeze of pain but nothing more, glaring back at Jonathan with pure hatred. “What would you prefer, the stake or the saw?” Jonathan pressed his saw against Redgrave’s throat, waiting for a response.

“You don’t understand what consequences my death would bring!” Redgrave barely whispered, each movement of his Adam’s apple pressing into the teeth of the saw.

“And now you know the consequences of hurting those I care about. Come on Redgrave, beg for your life!”

“I do not beg for anything!” Redgrave hissed out. Jonathan ran the saw out and back across his neck, enough to break the skin but not damage the voice box, not yet. “But perhaps we could come to an agreement?” Redgrave’s voice was weak now, pain evident underneath. Jonathan smiled.

“No.” Jonathan pressed harder with the saw this time. He sliced into the windpipe, sawing back and forth across Redgrave’s neck. There was a short gargling noise as blood spilled into his airway, but Redgrave stopped breathing, going completely still, staring up at Jonathan in rage and defiance. Jonathan sawed slowly, savouring the tearing of the flesh, the crunching of cartilage, the grinding of bone. Blood was pooling on the floor underneath them, the smell was stirring up Jonathan’s hunger, but he wasn’t going to drink anything from this… nothing! From this worthless scumbag that had destroyed his life!

With a final slice Redgrave’s head was entirely severed. Jonathan stood up off of Redgrave’s body, kicking the head away before wiping off his saw and stowing it back in his coat. He stared at the blood for a moment... he was so thirsty. And the blood was seeping into the rug, and pooling against the furniture… furniture that he recognised. He suddenly became aware of his surroundings rather than just Redgrave. He was in Clarence’s house.

He rushed downstairs, shadow jumping the entire way. He reappeared in the doorway to the living room and was relieved to see that Clarence had made it back to his armchair. Jonathan examined him from afar, there was still blood oozing from the bite on his neck, blooming out in time with the beats of his heart – Redgrave must have torn the artery. His heart rate was rather high, too high for just a fear reaction... Clarence had lost a lot of blood.

“Your eyes have the same reflections as a cat’s when you hover like that...” Clarence murmured, almost sounding drunk. “What happened?”

“Lord Redgrave is dead...” Jonathan said as he approached. He knelt next to Clarence, moving his fingers away from the wound to get a closer look. Rather than the puncture marks from just the fangs, a whole chunk of flesh had been torn away when he’d flung Redgrave off of him. “Clarence, I’m going to clean the wound but it’s going to hurt.” Jonathan withdrew a bottle of alcohol from his coat, tilting Clarence’s head away he poured the alcohol over the wound. Clarence yelled in pain and Jonathan got a good view of the inside of the wound. There was a ragged tear in Clarence’s vein and a small hole in the artery next to it. The space almost entirely refilled with blood as soon as Jonathan stopped pouring the alcohol. He placed Clarence’s fingers back on the wound, pressing down to minimise the blood flow.

He didn’t have any stitches on him, they wouldn’t be kept sterile and the infection could be just as lethal as a wound. A blood transfusion might work but he would have to get Clarence to Pembroke for that, and he knew Clarence wouldn’t last that journey. His fangs were extended, and Jonathan knew that this close to blood and this thirsty that he would never get them to retract. Clarence’s blood smelled intoxicating, and Jonathan closed his eyes against the temptation.

“So how does it look Johnny?” Clarence asked. Clarence had turned to stare at Jonathan who reluctantly met his eye.

“There’s nothing I can do...” he muttered. He stood up, pacing away, angry at this whole situation.

“What?”

“I don’t have anything on me, and I can’t get you anywhere before you’d bleed out!” Jonathan span around to look at Clarence whose breathing had gotten even shallower. “I’m sorry Clarence. I’m so sorry.” Jonathan’s gaze was drawn to the blood seeping through Clarence’s fingers. He moved closer again before he could stop himself. Clarence watched Jonathan’s movement stutter to a halt before his eyes slid upwards to his fangs that were on display. Clarence chuckled, a hollow sound that made Jonathan freeze, eyes drifting back up to meet Clarence’s rather than staring at his neck.

“Somehow I knew it would come to this...”

“Come to what?” Jonathan asked quietly. He thought he knew what Clarence was hinting at, he didn’t want it to be but he hoped it was, and his body had already moved forward yet again, closer to the blood. Clarence let out another bark of laughter.

“Johnny, there’s nothing I could do to stop you now...” Clarence sat up slightly, the movement forcing more blood through his fingers and Jonathan took another step forwards. “And it’s already happened once, what’s once more?” Jonathan was standing over Clarence now, staring down at his best friend, fighting everything telling him to bite, to drink, to kill… and losing.

“I don’t want to Clarence.” But he did as well, and Clarence knew it.

“Yes you do.” Jonathan leant in close, wrapping his arms around Clarence in the first hug they’d shared in far too many years. After a moment Clarence returned the gesture with his spare arm, leaning his head on Jonathan’s shoulder.

“Clarence, I’m so sorry,” Jonathan whispered. And he could resist no longer. He bit into Clarence’s neck and began to drink. Clarence let out a pained grunt, but didn’t release the hug even as Jonathan began to drain him.

Clarence’s memories began to flow through Jonathan’s mind, and it was such lovely nostalgia for Jonathan. To see his childhood, to see himself, to see Clarence from the alternate point of view. He saw the vampire Clarence saw in France, he saw the skals he’d seen on his return and he fully understood Clarence’s views of vampires. They really were nothing more than monsters. And Clarence had known immediately what he was, he felt his fear, felt the sadness, felt the twisted joy of seeing his friend regardless. Then there was Venus, and he felt Clarence’s world turn darker. He’d loved Venus as much as Venus had loved him when they’d first married. Then it was only fear. He couldn’t leave the house, the world was only monsters. Then one was at his door. His dead, murderer friend, come to claim him too. It was then that Jonathan felt it, his own influence, whispering that he was a friend. And it was ever present. Every moment after that was tinted with that phrase. Every time Clarence had seen him again, a whispered reminder. Every conversation, every judgement, every thought coloured by that sentence. _I’m your friend_.

Jonathan’s mind started racing at the realisation of it, and he could feel Clarence’s doing the same as he slowly began to slip away. He’d mesmered Clarence into believing they were friends. And now they both knew it.

**You had me fooled… old chap. Just… please don’t let me become like you...**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually had this planned from the beginning  
>  ~~You guys wanted hugs, right?~~  
>  Also, those are Clarence's actual final thoughts if you embrace him after Venus. God I felt so bad doing the research for that.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The finale

Jonathan just sat and watched his friend’s corpse, reminding himself over and over again that it wasn’t permanent, that Clarence would come back. Mary had been in the same situation and she’d come back and Clarence would as well… he had to. Time was inching past, and the only thing Jonathan could do was examine the scene before him. Clarence had slumped out of his chair when Jonathan had finished draining him. He was lying in the blood trail he’d left when he’d crawled into it after Jonathan had thrown Redgrave off his neck. There was so much of Clarence’s own blood staining his clothes and his skin and his house and Jonathan himself, but Jonathan’s eyes kept being drawn to the blood on Clarence’s mouth. There wasn’t much, but he knew there didn’t have to be much. It was staining his lips, but Jonathan had ensured it had gone into Clarence’s mouth.

Suddenly there was movement and Jonathan knelt next to Clarence instantly. His chest rose as he took a breath in, eyes fluttering open but not yet focused. Then his tongue licked at the blood around his mouth and the reaction was instantaneous. Clarence bolted upright, hand wiping at his mouth and staring at the blood on it.

“Clarence...” Jonathan said quietly and calmly, but Clarence’s gaze snapped to him instantly and the hatred in his eyes stole all the words Jonathan had planned to say.

“No Johnny. Just no. You can’t apologise, not for this.” Clarence’s gaze drifted back down to the blood on his hand, and Jonathan saw the flaring of nostrils as Clarence took the scent, the slight lift of the lips as Clarence resisted the urge to lick, to bite, to drink the blood he now craved. So Jonathan did the only thing he could think of. He bit into his own wrist, drawing just a little for himself before offering it to Clarence. “I hate you Johnny,” Clarence whined, even as he reached for Jonathan’s wrist. “I hate you so much.” He bit into Jonathan’s wrist and it was the viciousness as much as the pain that made him flinch. As Clarence began to drink he didn’t show the usual signs of ecstasy that he himself felt while feeding and Jonathan felt a fresh wave of guilt wash through him. He thought he’d spent so long debating with himself what to do that he’d come to terms with it, but Clarence’s actual awakening and reaction had set all the cogs spinning again. It felt like not much time had passed when Clarence withdrew from Jonathan and Jonathan was concerned that he hadn’t had enough. He tried to offer his wrist to Clarence again but Clarence shook his head. He didn’t even drink the dregs around his mouth, choosing to instead to wipe it clean with his hand and then on his already ruined jacket. Jonathan meanwhile licked the excess blood from his wrist – waste not, want not.

There was a moment of tense silence, Clarence was glaring at Jonathan who couldn’t hold his gaze, instead staring at the floor.

“It was the one thing I asked of you Johnny, ‘don’t let me become like you’. What possible justification could you have for this?” Clarence asked icily.

“I...” Jonathan began, raising his head and meeting Clarence’s gaze. He still couldn’t face the hatred that was there, and the pale blue ring creeping in from the edges of Clarence’s irises unnerved him. So he jumped away, leaning on the chest of drawers and decidedly not looking at Clarence before continuing. “Clarence, I have lost everything. My sister, my mother, a person I counted as my friend, the only woman I have ever loved, my job, daylight...” Jonathan hung his head as the overwhelming feeling of loss washed through him before he whirled around to face Clarence who had stood up while he hadn’t been looking. “I wasn’t going to lose the only person left that I care about! I couldn’t let… I couldn’t let _that_ be the last thing between us!” Jonathan exclaimed. Clarence, however, seemed unmoved. He simply straightened his ruined jacket before levelling a cold stare at Jonathan once again.

“So selfishness then. The selfish need to assuage your own guilt combined with the arrogance that your own wishes are the most important.”

“What? Clarence, no–” Jonathan started but Clarence merely raised his voice and continued speaking.

“And what have you, personally, done to me since we were so miraculously reunited? You murdered my wife in my own home, then used your hypnotic powers to make me forgive you for it, forcing me to think of you as my friend, using me to enable your bloodthirsty behaviour, brought the most powerful vampires in England down upon my head, killed me and then went against my one dying wish. Have I missed anything?” Clarence’s voice rose hysterically.

“Clarence, no, you don’t understand!” Jonathan cried desperately.

“No Johnny, I really do. You kept me up to date with your actions and I know what it’s like to deal with loss.” Clarence took a long breath in, standing up as tall as he could and glaring at Jonathan. “You have one way to make this right Johnny. I didn’t ask for this, and I refuse to exist like this. Kill me, and I might be able to forgive you.” Jonathan felt like all the air had been knocked out of him. He felt like his whole world was closing down around him. This wasn’t going how he’d intended.

“Clarence… Clarence I can’t.” Jonathan took a step forward, putting his hands on Clarence’s shoulders, willing him to understand. “I… I had to do that to Mary… I… I can’t… I _can’t_ do it to you as well.” Clarence pushed Jonathan’s hands off him with much more force than necessary.

“Fine,” he spat. He strode past Jonathan heading for the door. “Then I’ll go find someone who will!” Jonathan turned to watch Clarence, calling after him when he opened the door.

“Clarence, wait!” Clarence span around in the doorway, glaring at Jonathan for what felt like the final time.

“What Johnny? Want to say you’re sorry again? Want me to forgive you for killing me? Want me to go hunting with you for innocent victims to drain their blood? I refuse, Johnny! I refuse.” Clarence spun around to leave, putting his hand on the door handle before pausing, staring out into the night before speaking, very quietly and clearly. “I never want to see you again Johnny.” He shut the door behind him, didn’t even slam it in rage, just calmly put a barrier between them that Jonathan didn’t think he’d ever be able to remove.

Jonathan stared at the blood in the room around him, sparing a glance upwards for the blood and corpse he’d left up there. This is all he was now. No longer a doctor. No longer a brother. No longer a son. No longer a friend. Only a monster with a thirst for blood that drove him to kill his best friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You all knew this was coming. His last words are literally "don't let be like you" and that is asking for a fic, just begging for it.  
> Firstly sorry for the short last chapter, I only slightly wanted to leave you hanging and have a triple set of cliffhangers.  
> This was fun to write, and I am now at a loss of what to write next.  
> If you have any questions to do with the fic I will try to answer them.


	22. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geoffrey is hunting skals, you know, a typical evening for him

Geoffrey McCullum was out hunting skals. There were significantly fewer of them around but they were always a threat… and an easy meal. They tasted foul, but they had more blood in them than rats. He’d gotten that desperate once, eaten a few rats, never wanted to have to do that again. He’d found a nest of skals that were infected with Swansea’s plague, and he’d been using them as a food source for the past two weeks. He would burst in, lure them outside and take one away with him, draining it when he was safe.

Tonight he wasn’t desperate for blood however, tonight it was his more usual goal, protecting the general public. He’d found an abandoned housing estate, the tenants had all either been killed or turned. He kicked the door down and four skals turned to look at him, shrieking their piercing screams. His crossbow bolt hit the nearest one in the shoulder, and it shrieked again as it charged him. There was a puff of black smoke and a pair of the skals jumped behind him into the courtyard. He growled, the jumpers were so much more frustrating to fight.

McCullum lost himself in the fight. When he had been human he wouldn’t have dreamt of facing more than two skals without a squad behind him, and only then if he had the drop on them. But now, four skals was almost an even fight. It came down to a single jumper, he aimed at it with his crossbow but it jumped away before he could fire. He spun around, making a jump of his own after the skal. It swiped at him, but he easily dodged to the side, aiming to decapitate the skal. It was with a satisfying thud that the head hit the floor, but before he had the time to relax he caught a glimpse of movement behind him. He made a jump backwards, spinning with his sword at chest height to get the fight over with.

The first thing he noticed was that it was an Ekon, not a skal. The second thing he saw was the state of his clothes, they were posh enough but also torn and severely bloodied. The Ekon jumped away from the attack, disappearing in a puff of black smoke. They reappeared near the wall, then immediately stumbled into a set of bins, before catching his weight on the lid and nearly falling over. Then he realised that he recognised the man.

“Crossley? What in God’s name happened to you?”

“I don’t know, but I think I’m going to be sick,” Clarence gasped out, gingerly taking his hand off the bin, immediately stumbling another step and catching himself on the wall instead.

“What–” Geoffrey started to say before he worked out that Clarence was talking about the jump, not being turned. “The dizziness will pass,” he said curtly, jumping closer to prove his point. Clarence startled at the sudden move, but before he could react any further Geoffrey grabbed him by the shoulder, spinning him round and slamming him into the wall. He pinned him there with an arm across his throat and the tip of a stake pressed against his heart. “What I mean is, the last time we met you were decidedly anti-leech. So what changed?” Clarence was staring down at the stake, although he looked much less nervous than the position entailed, less nervous even than when Geoffrey had merely mentioned the Ascalon Club the last time they’d met.

“Do you want the long or the short version?” Geoffrey glanced up at the sky, it was still completely dark so they had time. Looking back down at the man he realised where most of the blood was staining his jacket and understood what it implied.

“I assume the short version is just ‘Reid’, so let’s go for the long version.”

“Well Lord Redgrave got in my house, and as part of his revenge against Johnny he...” Clarence trailed off. Geoffrey saw movement out of the corner of his eye, and glancing down he saw Clarence trying to lift his hand, hampered by their position. Instead Clarence tilted his head, stretching his neck against some phantom pain and Geoffrey could guess what happened.

“Redgrave drained you? Didn’t think that rich git still knew how to hunt...” Clarence grimaced.

“He started to… drain me but Johnny stopped him from killing me. Tore him off my throat and killed him.” Geoffrey’s eyebrows rose despite himself. This might be the perfect time for Priwen to finish off the Ascalon club now that their founder and eldest vampire was dead. It was what the Great Hunt had been set up to eventually lead to before his untimely death and now Reid of all people had really helped it along. Geoffrey frowned again at the reminder of just how ungodly strong Reid was.

“So Redgrave is dead and you’re there with a hole in your neck. How did it get from there to here?”

“Well...” Clarence started before swallowing thickly. “I was bleeding out and Johnny said… he couldn’t save me.” Clarence’s words came to a halt yet again and Geoffrey found himself getting exasperated.

“Just get on with it,” he snapped, earning a surprisingly dark glare from the shorter man.

“I am talking about my own death here, have some tact. Or is it true that the Irish aren’t born with any?” With a glare of his own Geoffrey kicked him hard in the shin.

“We only have so much darkness left, you posh English nonce, so get on with it,” Geoffrey growled out while Clarence swore mildly under his breath.

“Johnny drained me,” Clarence said swiftly and quietly. He paused for a moment but continued before Geoffrey could weigh in with his opinion. “Turns out he had hypnotised me into being his friend after he murdered my wife, and it was only as he killed me that I found out...” Clarence grimaced again, but Geoffrey decided not to comment. “Then I woke up.”

“I knew Reid was a bastard, but you seemed to be the only person he cared about, I didn’t think he’d do anything to you.”

“Well… he’s a vampire. That’s what they do, lie, manipulate and murder.” Geoffrey, despite himself, smiled.

“True enough.”

Suddenly a blast of panic that wasn’t his own shot through Geoffrey’s mind. His grip tightened on the stake and he leant more heavily on Clarence. He noticed that Clarence had shut his eyes, clearly getting the same blast of Reid’s thoughts that he was.

_McCullum! No! If Clarence finds him… No! McCullum can’t kill Clarence! He can’t! I refuse!_

The panic had morphed into rage but soon faded back into the background and eventually all together.

“Was that…” Clarence started before Geoffrey jumped in with a snarl.

“Reid. A fun thing about being a leech, our ‘maker’ can get inside our heads.” Geoffrey took a step back, staring at Clarence and trying to work out why Reid had been so panicked. “Why are you here Crossley? Why’d you come looking for me?”

“I refuse to exist as a vampire. I saw what it did to Johnny, and I refuse to let it happen to me. Johnny refused to set it right, so I went looking for someone who would.”

“You’re using me to kill yourself?” Geoffrey growled out.

“I’m a vampire, you’re a hunter, you should want to kill me!”

“And a minute ago I would have! Regardless of your reasons for it! Now I can’t!”

“You have to!” Clarence begged and it did nothing for Geoffrey’s mood.

“I can’t,” he snarled before turning on Clarence. “Besides if you’d really wanted to die you wouldn’t have dodged my first blow!”

“You took me by surprise! I wasn’t...” Clarence trailed off before starting again. “Well why didn’t you continue attacking? I couldn’t have done anything and you obviously knew I was a vampire.”

“I recognised you… and I owed you for giving me somewhere to sleep so I wanted to know what had happened.”

“You said you didn’t owe me anything for that...” Clarence mumbled.

“Well, I felt I did. And now you have two options, do it yourself–” Geoffrey threw the stake at him and although it startled Clarence he caught it regardless– “or learn to live with it.”

“I… I can’t...” Clarence was looking at the stake, holding it gingerly as if it was about to leap up and bite him. “I don’t want to live like this. I don’t want… blood. I don’t want to kill anyone.”

“I’ve been making do with draining skals so far,” Geoffrey nodded towards the bodies that littered the ground.

“Lovely...” Clarence said with an attempt at a sneer but Geoffrey didn’t miss how he wouldn’t look directly at the bodies or the blood on the ground. Geoffrey was about to start berating the man when he noticed how much lighter the sky had become.

“It seems you have time to make a decision. The sun is rising, so we need to get inside.” Clarence looked up at the sky, but didn’t make a move instead just dropping the stake to his side. “The sun won’t kill you if that’s what you’re about to attempt. It will, however, burn you down to the bone and you’ll have to wait til evening to heal again.” Clarence shuddered, looking back down at Geoffrey again.

“I… I have nowhere I can go any more,” Clarence said quietly and Geoffrey understood exactly where he was coming from.

“There are loads of abandoned houses around thanks to the epidemic. They’re as good a place to sleep as any,” Geoffrey said gruffly, before turning and indicating the house the skals he’d just fought had been occupying. “I’m gonna stay here today, there’s no reason you can’t do the same.”

“So good of you to offer something that isn’t yours,” Clarence said, his voice was low and his tone scolding more than anything. Geoffrey span around to tell the man that he could go find his own damn hovel, but Clarence had already started heading for the door with his head hung low, staring at the floor. “Thank you,” he said quietly as he passed Geoffrey. Which left Geoffrey entirely dumbfounded at what to do about this whole situation. Then he noticed the shadows gaining definition around him and the wave of tiredness that always accompanied the rising sun. He’d deal with it this evening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thus the reluctant vampire squad was born


End file.
